Metroid Sepsis
by SkyworldPress
Summary: Before Emergency Order M510, there was only Samus Aran. In this fan prequel to the Metroid series, Samus struggles to find work as a fledgling bounty hunter, until a mystery client reaches out to her directly. Witness the birth of a legend, as Samus races against the clock to stop a devastating virus from terminating galactic life forever!
1. Chapter 1

"Before I go, I…"

Light raindrops kissed my face, as if the planet Zebes itself was bidding farewell. The mechanical drone of the Federation Spaceship stirred the rocks beneath my feet, making it hard for short legs to hold still.

The old Chozo smiled down at me, his beak brittle and jaundiced with age.

"Little one, you know our ways…" he said softly, patting me on the head as if I was his pet. "There is a life far beyond our mortal one, and if we don't meet in this life again, we will most certainly meet there."

I shook my head petulantly, droplets of rainwater leaping from my hair like tiny Grenchlers. Old Bird had told me stories about them; that they lived on a planet on the other side of the system. Perhaps now, I'd finally be able to go there…although if the stories were true, I'd rather stay on Zebes.

"But I'm not a Chozo, Beaky."

"Beaky" had always been my nickname for Old Bird. I called him "Beaky" when I first learned to speak, as I'd read a great deal about bird species in my childhood. Master was far too formal for someone of another species, and father? Well, that one hit too close to home.

"What if I don't go to the same place you do when I die?" I cried.

The Old Bird grunted benevolently, wrapping his dulled talons around the base of my skull. I felt strands of my hair get caught in the cracks.

"Whether we're the same species or not, we're all going to the same place. It's a matter of how long," he rasped, emitting a watery cough.

I frowned, knowing that Old Bird's time was certainly closer than mine. Perhaps he knew as well. Though his eyes were misty, melancholic, he was at peace. He knew his time was coming, and he was ready for it.

I eyed the Federation Spaceship once again, its drab surface no more exciting than the gray clouds that shrouded the sky. Tiny lights in the windows flickered like firefleas in the night, the occasional shadow of a Federation soldier moving by them. A dozen teenaged Chozo boys marched up the entrance ramp of the Spaceship, clenching their talons into fists and bumping them with each other, as they received their badges and uniforms from the soldiers at the ramp's apex.

Perhaps they shared the same dream I had. More than likely, I thought pessimistically, they were doing it for glorious self-interest.

"Samus, wait," said a lispy voice, a positive distraction from my cantankerous thoughts. I spun around to see my half-brother Dryn, who would be completing his Trials in the coming cycle, limping towards us.

"You're late," Old Bird scolded.

"Sorry, my leg is still killing me from training yesterday…" he said, bending down and massaging it. "You know, you have to be careful not to jinx me whenever you say 'break a leg'."

I smiled, in spite of Old Bird's disapproving glare. I'd always found my half-brother's complaints amusing. He was nowhere near the physical specimen that I was; his strength was his mind. Even though he'd wanted a warrior for a son, Old Bird had raised him patiently, and despite his constant gripes, he was proud of him.

"You are filled with excuses as usual, young one. You must have a great excuse planned for missing your Trial in the next cycle."

Dryn embraced me in a feathery hug, ignoring the criticisms of his adopted father.

"Congrats, bro," he said, his benevolent eyes mired by thick tears.

"Thanks, bro," I smiled back, delivering a light punch to his shoulder. He winced and stood beside Old Bird. In Chozo language, there were no gender exclusive words, so we called each other "bro."

"Beaky," I said, staring at the yellow label on the underside of the massive ship that read G.F.S Ragnarok. "Yes, my child," came the feeble response.

"Can I make the world a better place with the Galactic Federation?"

He laid a cracked talon on my shoulder.

"What do you think?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but could think of nothing to say.

"There is no shame in being selfish, little one."

I raised an eyebrow and looked up at the old Chozo. He'd never given me that kind of advice before.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my features twisted in bewilderment.

"Ah, the look on your face," he smiled, as Dryn stifled a laugh. "I should've known this day would come."

He leaned down until his eyes met mine.

"You have a tremendous opportunity many other Chozo would dream of, child. You get to travel the galaxy, and bear witness to the many wondrous worlds that lay beyond the gaze of Qil-Modo…" He cocked his head towards the statue of the ancient Chozo God of Zebes, towering over the valleys of Crateria in the distance.

"You are leaving the protective span of my wings little one. I cannot make decisions for you anymore. Nobody can." He tucked his head, dropping another watery cough more uncomfortable than the first. "You are your own judge, jury, and executioner. From this day forward, every decision you make shall be your own. You must trust your instincts, and go where your heart and mind tells you."

Another coughing fit, and Dryn and I exchanged nervous glances.

"If I can offer one final piece of advice, however, it's this: don't let one speak louder than the other."

He stood up and nodded towards the ship.

"It is time, little one. Go forth and find your destiny."

I took a few steps towards the massive ship, feeling the jagged surface of the planet beneath my feet for what I thought would be the final time, before turning around and jumping into Old Bird's arms. He laughed a jolly old laugh, one I had never heard before. Tears formed in my eyes as I felt my brother's wings flank me as well.

"You have the heart of a true Chozo warrior," Old Bird said, setting me down. "Remember your training, remember your friends, but most importantly, remember your family." My eyes watered. I knew the veiled meaning behind that last statement.

"Go, go," he said one final time. The engines of the gray monolith sputtered to life. I panicked and ran to the entrance ramp. Before I could greet the soldier at the top, I made sure to give one more thumbs up to my family, as the disappeared behind the closing ramp.

Eight Years Later

A pink aura hung low over the surface of Daiban like cotton candy, as the orange dot on the horizon prepared to nestle itself in its protective shell. Spacecars, tiny War Wasps, floated about the city in the methodical bustle of rush hour, swarming the high-rising hives of human men that jutted out of the ground.

It was here I stood for a moment, the white noise of the city intoxicating my ear drums, so much so that I didn't hear the approach of my commanding officer.

"Wait," said the cold voice of Adam Malkovich. I did not turn to face him. "Samus, reconsider."

It was not a request, but a command.

"I have. I've considered this for a long time, Adam."

The sky grew darker as the sun finally dipped below the skyline. The streetlight above me made a queer sputtering sound, before kicking to life and bathing me in an amber aura. The light needed replacing.

"If you had, you wouldn't be leaving."

I took a step forward, out of the daze of the streetlight.

"How can you live with yourself, Adam?" I asked, emotionless.

"Did you really think it was that easy of a choice?"

Images of the Lusitania swam into my consciousness, much like they had every night since the incident, causing me to wake up in a cold sweat.

"Between your brother and a single battleship? The choice seems pretty clear, if you think about it."

Hundreds of streetlights flickered on simultaneously in the urban jungle below. On lonely nights following my training sessions, I would count the silver and amber lights in my head. If there were more silver lights, I'd go straight home. More amber, I'd stop at Sylvanious' Iced Drink Bar and get a Sheegoth shake.

I can't remember when I started doing this. There had always been some kind of beauty in the imperfection of the amber lights, something to break the monotony of Police training.

Tonight was not a counting night.

"You know as well as I that if we'd stayed connected, we would've perished too."

"Do you know that?" I responded.

"I do, Lady."

I whirled around to face him, fire prickling at the inside of my skin.

"How dare you…" I paused, noticing the flicker of sadness in his eyes.

"He knew the risks when he registered," he said, blinking in an attempt to disguise the moment of weakness.

"You FORCED him to register," I countered. "He told me himself. He wanted to work in R&D, not on the front lines. But God forbid he embarrass you."

"It's true that I would've preferred a brother who'd rather stick his neck out than sit at home and play with his chemistry set…but I loved him just the same."

Adam took a few steps forward, and I reached for my paralyzer. A couple of browning leaves playfully circled us, propelled by the late August gust. My now ex-CO smiled derisively at this final act of insubordination.

"You always did hate orders," he said quietly. I said nothing, slowly pulling my hand away and back to my side.

"This isn't about him. This is about you."

"What about me?" I asked. Adam smirked.

"You really think you have what it takes to be a bounty hunter?"

I said nothing.

"You asked me a moment ago how I lived with myself. I could ask you the same thing."

The streetlight dimmed, the ground beneath it browning in its glare like the swirling leaves, which were now scraping the ground as the wind petered out.

"My conscience is clear," I answered simply.

"Is it?" he asked immediately. I said nothing, plugging my nostrils as the smell of jet car fuel wafted up from the streets below. Even from a hundred feet up, one couldn't escape that horrible smell.

"You told me the day you arrived here that you wanted to change the galaxy, and eliminate the Space Pirates once and for all. How can you say that when you're so willing to trade away your vow to protect the citizens of this galaxy just for better pay?"

"Do you really think I'm doing this just for the money?" I said after a moment's silence. "To answer your question, Adam, my dream is still alive. I haven't forgotten what they did to my family."

The gleeful face of the Space Pirate General Ridley, as he strangled the life out of my father and spiked my mother with his tail, had also appeared in my dreams on many a sleepless night.

"I'm done taking orders and fighting proxy wars with those monsters. I'm done with litigation, and orders, and protocols. Mark my words, Adam Malkovich; my dream lives, but only I can make it come true."

"By yourself?" he added, a hint of that trademark snark mingled with his voice.

"By myself."

"And there's no way I can convince you to come back to my side?"

Silence.

"I see…"

He gazed off at the horizon, as the sun finally sank from view, the sky engulfed in hazy blue darkness. The streetlight nearest him buzzed to life, encasing him in a silver cocoon.

"I have to do this Adam. My way. Any objections?"

He stared me down once more.

"No, I have no objections."

I felt the corners of my mouth edge towards my cheek, wanting so badly to smile, but I remained stoic.

"Then we have nothing more to say."

With that, I turned and walked down the sidewalk into the housing district. The only sounds were the rustling wind and Adam's retreating footsteps, as the buzzing streetlamp finally quit and left the scene in darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

"This is it," said Rylo, the unkempt driver of the 20X5 Blazer containing the four of us. I leaned and gazed out at the cracked, denzium sidewalks of the Daiban underworld. A steamy layer of water vapor had been kicked up from the puddles of an earlier rain, laboring our breaths and opening our pores. The car turned and slowly lowered down to street level, and I could see the building Rylo was talking about; a modern apartment complex in perfect shape, standing out among the crumbling buildings like a rose among weeds.

They need a better hiding spot, I mused to myself, as the car finally lowered to street level.

"Okay…Serris, you'll need to enter first," Rylo said turning to me. His eyes were bloodshot from the bloodflower binge the night before. "You know what to do, right?"

I nodded, as he put a hand on my cheek.

"Be careful…Galusha can be difficult." I plugged my nostrils as his foul breath caressed my face, wincing as he leaned in for a kiss. I forced myself to kiss him back, knowing how close I was to the finish line anyway.

"Be very careful," he repeated. I stepped out of the spacecar, some of the paint peeling off and sticking to my blue tracksuit.

"Wipe that off," came the gravelly voice of Oculus. He looked terrified, as he always did; he claimed he had some sort of condition that made his eyes appear wider than they were, which was why everyone called him Oculus.

I put a hand on my hip.

"I'm meeting with Djinn Galusha, not Chairman Vogl," I joked.

"If you think ol' gilly lips up there is obsessed with minute details, wait 'till you meet Galusha," said Sails, the Luminoth in the shotgun seat with the sailboat-like wings. He was too brilliant to be a petty criminal, though his career options outside of it were sadly limited. His parents had been killed in a civil war on Aether, and he had to make the choice very early in life to either fight and face certain death, or flee and live a lonely life as a runaway.

I wet my index finger with my tongue and rubbed the rusty paint off, nearly gagging at the acrid taste in my mouth. I hadn't washed my hands in a long time…I hadn't washed in a long time. Perhaps I was foolish to think that even the wealthiest and most connected of drug cartels preferred to keep their hands clean.

The front door to the apartment towered over me. I noticed it was larger than the other doors on the block. I turned back to my crew, who gave me the thumbs up. My nostrils protested as I took a deep breath, water molecules and the horrid smells of street garbage poking at my olfactory nerves. Every one of my senses told me to turn back and run, my instincts telling me to stay. I listened to the latter, like I always did.

I stepped up and prepared to knock, but a sharp jab in my ribcage pushed me back. The barrel of a ray rifle was pointed at my chest.

"State your name," said a garbled voice. A voice disguiser; perhaps they were serious after all.

"Serris Finack."

"Purpose?"

"I'm here to complete my initiation."

The blunt retreated through the small hole in the door. The door rattled and swung open, as a slimy appendage wrapped itself around me and dragged me inside.

The tentacle covered my mouth, and the thing's sole eyeball stared directly into mine. I stood still and let my heartbeat stay calm, knowing this creature, the Jeela, could detect the slightest hesitation. After a moment, it let me drop to the cold, concrete floor.

"No deception detected," the creature warbled, its gaze softening. I'd become fairly talented at outsmarting the Jeela.

"Arms up," it barked. I obeyed, letting the tentacle slither around every curve of my body, resisting the urge to shiver as it slowly pulled up my tracksuit and slithered down my legs. Finally, the tentacles withdrew as they reached my back pocket, one of them curling around the trigger of my paralyzer and slowly withdrawing it.

"One paralyzer…" The tentacle continued down to my feet, where it paused and felt the edges of my shoes.

"Jet boots," it mumbled again. "No lethal weapons detected. All clear. Master will see you soon."

I took the opportunity to survey the apartment. It was no different than mine or any standard Daiban single, with a kitchenette, living area and a staircase leading up to what I imagined was a combined bed/bathroom. My apartment was fairly cleaner, but I wouldn't tell Djinn that. The stale smell of cigarette smoke hung in the air, and the tables and counters were covered in discarded bottles of Botwoon beer and photos of (very young) women of all races.

Slow, labored footsteps dragged across the upstairs floor and to the landing, sounding as if multiple people were upstairs. I wondered how else would be up there, until eight spindly, robotic legs slowly inched down the stairs in front of me, carrying a wrinkled carcass of a man. His face was covered in a forest of unkempt hair, and the patches of skin that were visible were sallow and cracked.

"Serris," he said in a high-pitched hiss, his arms extended in a show of goodwill. "We finally meet. How are you, do you want something to drink?"

"I'm not here for small talk," was my answer.

Galusha emitted a watery cough, eerily reminiscent of Old Bird.

"To the point, I see. I like that…I like you already! You're very different than Rylo had described…"

I smiled.

"I'm good at first impressions."

His lips curled up; his feeble attempt at a smile.

"Drinks for the both of us," he said, nodding at the Jeela who was already slithering towards the ice box.

The Jeela withdrew two cans of Botwoon beer and dropped them into our hands. Galusha hastily popped the lid and gulped it down, letting a trickle of the stuff dribble down his chin.

"Gracious, that's good…Have you ever been to Zebes before?"

I shook my head, pretending to take a sip of the foul beer.

"Neither have I, but I've dreamed…I've dreamed of walking along with the Chozo, learning their secrets, studying their temples." He crumpled the can in his hands, twitching gleefully with every crinkle. "Such a graceful, complex species."

I smiled, as I remembered a time Dryn tripped in knee-deep water. He needed a cast for two weeks on his right arm, hos writing arm, and got out of one of his final academic trials. Later, he admitted to me that he'd actually fallen on his left arm.

"This beer is made from the scales of a sea creature that lives deep in that planet's core. A very rare specimen."

"Botwoon," I muttered before I could stop myself. Even with his yellowing eyes, I had the sense the man could see through me. After a second, though, he smiled and nodded.

"Indeed. I say, look at us, just making small talk…I wish to see your friends!"

I could feel the sweat forming in my palms, as Galusha scampered over to the door and opened it.

"Come, come in!" Galusha called in the direction of the street. I heard the sounds of three pairs of feet crunching on the decaying sidewalk and moving towards the house.

"They don't need to be checked," Galusha said dismissively, waving a hand as the Jeela's tentacles slithered towards them. I could see Sails plugging his nostrils as he stepped into the room. Perhaps this was his first time here as well.

"Serris, look closely at these three warriors," he said softly. "Do you see the desire in their eyes?"

I looked into their plushy eyes, bloodshot and tired, and wondered if the old man was blind. That "desire" he saw was more akin to fear; an adolescent fear, of something even larger than themselves. They weren't courageous warriors. They were soldiers, conscripted by the laws of the underworld into fighting the proxy wars for nameless drug lords. If there was any desire, it was to be free. But I knew better, and perhaps they did too. They would never be free.

"That's what I look for in every person I take under my wing. Look around you. Every single living thing in this room could turn on you in a heartbeat, all for the sake of an extra day alive."

The old man's hacked again, forcefully enough to knock scraps of paint off the walls. The place looked so much better on the outside.

"It matters not what cartels trade. Drugs, arms, favors…The only currency that matters is life, and its preservation. We trade them to get what we want, to ensure the safety of our own. Your life, to these three men, is simply a meal ticket."

Galusha reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a small pistol. I recognized it as the same pistol the Jeela had held at my ribs in the doorway.

"This is one of my most prized weapons…my Blueroot pistol. A former 'friend' of mine had given this to me as a gift." He snickered. "Needless to say, I put it to good use."

He held it out to me.

"Take it."

I obliged, feeling the gelatinous grip stick to my fingers.

"The empty suits up in the Federation building like to tell us that guns kill people. What a farce. Guns are no different than a craftsman's wrench, guided by the heart, mind, and soul of the person wielding them. They are extensions of ourselves, powerless without the guiding hand of a living being. You and I…we are the weapons."

"Sir, uh, I don't mean to speak out of turn, but my girlfriend-" I resisted the urge to gag "-came here for her final trial," Rylo said. "What are you getting at?"

Galusha turned to Rylo, his serpentine eyes sizing him up hungrily, as if he were a slab of meat.

"Rylo, did you not say the last time we met how much you enjoyed my company?"

Rylo studied the floor of apartment, seemingly fascinated by the unknown stains that speckled the white linoleum.

"Of course I enjoy your company, I wasn't…"

"How can you say that if you can't even enjoy a simple conversation? Or look me in the eyes." The latter was a demand, not a question.

Rylo obliged.

"Forgive me sir, I didn't mean to…"

Galusha let loose a belly laugh, a deep, booming tremor that shook the apartment's foundation. Phlegm bubbled in his throat like hot lava, causing my skin to crawl.

"Your face!" Rylo nervously joined in laughing, as did the other two.

"That being said…" Galusha started, wiping a tear from his eye. "I did have a rather platitudinous final trial planned, but your comments gave me a much juicier idea."

The old men winked at me, and cocked his head towards Rylo.

"Kill him."

Rylo's face paled.

"W-what?" he sputtered, like a child receiving a punishment.

"You've been a brave warrior, my child," Galusha said without looking at him, "but I regret to inform you that the feeling is not mutual. Serris, eliminate him. That is your child."

Rylo guffawed, as if the whole situation were a joke. "You really think she's gonna sho-"

The sound of an electro-magnetic pulse silenced the room. Rylo looked down at his chest, where the yellow bolt from the pistol had ripped him open. And casting one more betrayed look at me, his eyes watering with tears, he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

I let the barrel of the blueroot pistol cool down, before calmly handing it back to Galusha. There was a moment's silence, a tense memorial for the dead man on the floor. I could feel Sails' and Oculus' stares boring into the back of my head.

"Magnificent!" Galusha exclaimed suddenly. "Without even a moment's hesitation! You know what it takes. You're a far greater find than Rylo had let on."

I looked on indifferently as the Jeela's tentacles began to wrap around the corpse, preparing to devour it.

"I'd like to offer you a reward for your successful initiation." He deposited the pistol and withdrew a small baggie, containing a liquid that looked like melted grapes. My pulse raced. "This is more than a liquid ounce of Lirium, more than enough to last you an entire month. Continued loyalty will earn you more."

"Thank you. That's exactly what I was looking for." With the Jeela distracted, I grabbed my emergency pistol from the creature's outstretched tentacle and dove behind the small kitchen table, its contents flying in the air.

I leaned over the table and fired a full-charge that caught Galusha in the side of the face. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground, his spindly legs going limp. Sails and Oculus made a run at me, but the Jeela's panicked tentacles caught them by the legs and dangled them in the air. I ducked behind the table, wincing as their screams mingled with the pulsing of the creature's digestive system.

The screams stopped, and I closed my eyes as the spongy sound of the Jeela's movement grew louder. I fired another quick shot from my paralyzer, which rebounded off the creature's pliant skin and crashed into one of the cupboards. Silverware erupted from it, and I gasped as a fork caught the side of my leg. I reloaded and looked desperately around the room for something to use.

Too late.

A tentacle wrapped around my leg and yanked me off the ground. I swung my arms wildly, firing bolts from my paralyzer that shattered the windows and blew open the ice box. The Jeela made a nauseating belching sound, and cavity formed in its chest, revealing the scarred bodies of Sails and Oculus. That's when I noticed its sole eye, wide and excited for another warm meal, and in desperation I kicked at it with my free leg.

The Jeela screeched in pain, and the tentacle loosened its grip for a moment. In a wild moment of inspiration, I angled my free leg above the creature's eye and activated my jet boots. The tentacle finally released me, my body crashing through the table I had hid behind. I kicked up from the ground, wincing and clutching at the small of my back, waiting for it to open its eye again.

Finally, it roared and glared down at me, but before it could strike I'd already leapt into the air and crushing my feet through the creatures body. I held my breath as I ignited my jet boots at full blast, the creature writhing, screeching, flailing its trunk-like tentacles in an attempt to decapitate me. Smoke began emerging from the creature's body, and its digestive tracts glowed red with heat.

I propelled myself to the ceiling, just as the Jeela bloated, belched again, and exploded, covering the small apartment in thick, brown membrane. I took a quick glance at the bodies of Sails and Oculus, badly burned but twitching, before deftly landing on my feet. One of Galusha's legs twitched, but before he could come too, I dropped down from the ceiling and pointed the paralyzer at him.

He scowled at me as I withdrew a communicator from my pocket.

"This is Samus. I've detained the target."

"Boy, you clean up nice."

Anthony Higgs said this absentmindedly an hour later, as he signed a document detailing where each of the three prisoners would be sent. I wiped a smudge of burnt Jeela flesh from my cheek, as Galusha's scowl disappeared behind the barred door of the departing Galactic Federation Transport.

"Djinn Galusha, aged 83. Bribed young, unemployed men of all species with lirium for favors. He was the orchestrator of the bank robbery on Lyrica Street and the shooting down in the Fiore Corridor." Higgs punched my shoulder playfully. "Not bad, Aran. This guy has been a thorn in our sides for a while now."

We walked into the apartment, Anthony retching at the smell of the rotting Jeela skin that blanketed the walls.

"Did you really have to blow the damn thing up, though?"

I nodded.

"Better than the alternative."

Higgs shook his head and stuck his tongue out.

"The only way to kill a Jeela is with concentrated heat. Didn't you ever pay attention to Adam's briefings?"

"All I can tell you about the briefings is what color the back of my eyelids were."

"I can't believe you're a Level Three," I countered.

He rubbed some of the slime off the kitchen counter.

"I hope they dock your pay for this. Look at the crap I have to clean up now!"

I studied the cracked part of the ceiling near where I'd jumped, the only part of the whole place that had been spared from the explosion.

"Sir!" called a voice from the top of the stairs. "We found his lab."

Anthony excused himself and ascended the stairs. I waited for his cobalt-blue shoes to disappear at the top before stepping outside. The thick fog, once oppressive and impairing my lungs, was now a welcome relief from the pungent hell. I eyed one of the soldiers sauntering by, holding a folder with Galusha's name on it.

"I need to check something," I said, taking the folder from him and opening it. Tearing through it, I finally came across the desired page reading "Known Criminal Connections," my heart sinking as the words "no known connections to the Space Pirates" greeted me.

I slammed the folder shut and threw it on the ground. Four months of undercover work, wasted on another petty criminal. The malevolent, reptilian eyes of my parents' murderers stared down at me from a billboard overlooking the street. Typed in a crimson, boldfaced font were the words: "WANTED: Ridley, Space Pirate General, 5 Million Credit Reward."

This billboard was all over the ecumenopolis. I'd know when the message was playing, because the children would always cry. Their parents would attempt to comfort them, but could never find the words. What would they say? Who knew when the Space Pirate General would bare his blood-stained claws at them?

I was the only one who could stare back, hoping somehow that he would notice me. Every mission I accepted was my way of poking the sleeping bear, letting him know the girl he'd left for dead was still alive. The image disappeared, replaced by a platoon of marching Federation soldiers.

"Join the Federation, fight the Space Pirate Menace, defend Daiban from tyranny. Speak with your local recruiter today," the monotone voice droned, a tinny rendition of the Galactic Federation accompanying it.

"Why the long face?" Sails' icy voice caught me by surprise, and I turned to see his six pairs of arms chained together, flanked by two young soldiers. "Ah, I see…You were a soldier before you became a bounty hunter, weren't you?"

I turned my nose up at the overgrown insect. His abdomen was badly charred, as was his face and legs; he looked like an overgrown piece of charcoal with wings.

"I don't talk to petty criminals," I said coolly, indicating my wrists as the Luminoth

"Hmph, do you even know who I am, Samus Aran?" he shouted over his shoulder.

"At ease troopers," I said, running over to them. They turned the insect around to face me. "How do you know my real name?" I asked, my face inches from his.

The Luminoth smiled. Despite being badly burned, he still possessed that rather boyish appearance. His short antennae buzzed smartly, his wings shaking off deposits of dead skin.

"You're a Federation soldier in everything but title. You just get a better pay day now."

I took a step towards him.

"You don't know me, and I don't know you." I buried a finger in his abdomen. "Don't stick your feelers where they don't belong, bug."

He cocked his head to the side lazily.

"You're nothing more than a foolish tomboy, and yet I find you irresistible…" I roughly intercepted his gnarled, bony fingers as they went to stroke my cheek. We stood there for a moment, arms interlocked, silently daring one another to retract. Finally, he sneered and withdrew.

"What a strange girl," he mumbled, as the Federation soldiers carried him away. I stared after him, viciously satisfied with every burn on his body.

"Creep…" came a familiar voice from behind me. I did nothing as Anthony put an arm on my shoulder. "You didn't listen to that thing, did you?"

"Actually, of all those fools, he was the one I liked the most." A memory flashed of a late night a couple of weeks before. We were in a club high above the city, waiting for Rylo to arrive. The planet below was bathed in white. It was then, as a means to pass the time, that he'd told me about his past.

Sails had used the word irresistible just then to describe me. While it certainly wasn't irresistible, I'd found an appreciation for him myself. He was still young; only in his 100th cycle of life, a quarter of his species' typical lifespan. He had a nervous laugh, and made the juvenile jokes so typical of the others in the group, and though it never felt as if he had to lower himself to our level, he palpitated a layer of intelligence far beyond any of ours. Even mine. It was an intelligence befitting the Luminoth, one that not even his desertion could shake. An intelligence he was cursed with.

As the soldiers shoved the blackened bug in the back of the transport, I realized that I had never learned his true name. I'd never thought to ask.

"In any case, we're all set here Samus. Your payment has been processed." I looked back at my friend, the only one left from my days in the Federation.

"How much? 'Cause if it's anything less, like it was last time…" Anthony put a hand up.

"Hey now, no need to bite my head off. It's actually more that it was initially." I frowned.

"How much?" I repeated.

"18,000 credits."

I rolled my eyes.

"Fantastic, only 1,000 more than what was promised."

Anthony smiled weakly.

"I thought you'd be happy getting properly compensated for once."

The image of Ridley had reappeared on the billboard on the street corner.

"Personally, I'm getting tired of cleaning up the Federation's messes," I said, wiping some of the Jeela's membrane off my boot, and leaving the scene.


	3. Chapter 3

My apartment was located behind a plaza of restaurants and bars, and being a 7th cycle day, I knew sleep would not come easy. The meandering notes of "Eviresca," an old Bryyonian swing number, enveloped me as I placed my hand upon the print-reader outside my complex. After a few moments, it emitted the desired green aura and gave off a soothing note of its own. I felt like I could breathe for the first time in months, and I took my time stepping inside. I toyed over the idea of finding the song's source, enjoying a shot of Reaper Extract, staring out at the lights of ecumenopolis below…

Too late. The door shut automatically behind me, and I was locked in my cell. I fell onto the couch, a thick cloud of dust rising up, filling my lungs and making my eyes water.

Never trust Anthony with anything, I mused, disengaging my jet boots and slipping them off. He was supposed to have checked up on the place regularly while I was undercover.

"Power on," I said absentmindedly. A translucent blue screen illuminated in the center of the room.

"Welcome back, Samus Aran," the sickeningly sweet voice of the computer said. Unfortunately, it could not be reprogrammed. "The time is 19:45. Three hours until sunrise."

It had taken me four hours to walk home. Anthony offered me a ride, but I knew better than to get into a Federation transport.

"Open Hunternet," I croaked, feeling the dust collecting in my throat. A gallery of unflattering faces and mugshots appeared at once. My skin prickled as the image of Ridley flashed on the screen, the ridiculous bounty printed directly above his scaly, rod-shaped head. He looked much more intimidating on here than on the billboard; his razor-sharp teeth were brandished like fifty sharp swords, his pupil-less eyes glowing an eerie yellow. His skin was a grotesque shade of purple, and hung from his jagged frame like drapes. If it were up to me, I'd accept the mission, but I was forced to wait like usual for the lesser criminals to load.

The band outside had changed songs, my heart pulsing as I recognized the beat. It was a jazzy rendition of an old Chozo folk song, one Old Bird would sing to me in the Chozo language as I drifted off to sleep. Though I couldn't understand the lyrics, the purity and airiness of the spoken word were more than enough to make my eyelids heavy.

I dragged the blue screen closer and maximized the display, scrolling through the wily and unkempt faces of the Daiban Underworld until the words "no more results" flashed across the screen mockingly.

"Do you wish to expand your search to other planets and systems?" the voice asked. I gritted my teeth. Even with the money forthcoming from my latest mission, I barely had enough to rent a ship, let alone own one.

I put my head in my hands and laid back down on the couch. Doubt joined me soon enough, asking the question it always did.

Why did you leave the Federation?

Because a friend died on my watch. People from the outside looking in wouldn't understand. Every soldier loses someone at some point, they'd say. What made my case so special?

Why did you leave the Federation?

I was tired of being a soldier. Fighting wars for a government that didn't care. War was money, and better to fight slowly and milk it rather than end the war swiftly and save a few thousand innocent lives.

I thought about what Galusha had said. How life was nothing but currency. He would make a great politician.

Why did you leave the Federation?

Because…

The question was dogged, and I couldn't distract myself from it. I'd run out of answers to send it away.

There was only one answer left: I wanted to be the hero. And I didn't want to share that title with anyone else. By now of course, I'd learned my lesson. Bounty hunters weren't heroes. We were attention seekers, hell-bent on getting a few cycles of fame. Saving lives was a sport, not an action. It was a job, not a calling.

I would never be the hero. Heroes appeared on bulletin boards and asked you to buy something. They told you to join the Federation. They beat up Space Pirates and made sure to smile for the camera. While they did the photo shoots, drew pointing fingers of children when their faces cropped up on billboards across the planet, I spent my nights alone in the underworld, listening to the drunk men enjoy jazz.

"Incoming message."

I rubbed my eyes and looked at the screen.

"Message from…unknown. Do you wish to receive?"

"Yes," I mumbled, but my heart pulsing again as a blue wall of Chozo text appeared before me.

"Read it aloud," I commanded, sitting up.

"Initializing 2002, identifying language…Chozo text detected, translating…translation successful, beginning narration."

I tapped my feet against the floor nervously.

"Hello, Hunter, I am Chozo. Should you accept this message, important details about your mission and subsequent compensation will be provided at our meeting. There is no need to bid on this mission…your experience explains itself. The coordinates of our meeting site are encrypted within this message. Tell no one else."

The letter seemed to be written rather informally, unbecoming of typical Chozo dialogue. My shoulders sagged, thinking the message was junk mail. I grabbed the screen and attempted to move the message to the wastebasket, but a window popped up and stopped me in my tracks: "error, unable to delete. File is stored in external database."

I opened the message again, my fingers numb after I'd fired off a response.

"I report any and all malware to the Computing Authority," I typed. Half-hoping I would get a response and not the "recipient name or pathway incorrect" response typical of spammers. What I did not expect was an instant response.

A few seconds later, the computer read aloud a new bar of Chozo text: "You are Samus Aran."

Ice ran down my back and dropped into my stomach.

"I'm contacting the authorities now," I typed.

"I know what you seek, Samus. And if you want it, you will rendezvous with me at the coordinates listed."

I blinked, and scanned the room. Someone had to be watching me. I tore apart the quarters, looking for any semblance of a camera or recording device.

"Strange…there is a curious pattern in your search history."

I stopped, letting a bendezium bowl crash to the floor.

"It seems you find General Ridley as interesting as we do." I pelted across the room to the couch and typed out a response.

"So that's how you identified me?" I hurriedly typed out. Nothing, not even a "message read" notification. "Who are you?"

It took a few moments, but a gray pulsing ellipses at the bottom of the page indicated he was finally responding.

"I am Chozo," was all that came back.

"I need more," I typed, sweat loosening my fingertips.

No response.

"You hacked into my computer. I'd like to know who you are, or I can get the Federation Cyber-Authority (FCA) to settle this."

"Come to the meeting place, my child," was the final response. A curt pong indicated that the messages were deleting themselves. The screen closed, with only the message detailing the meeting coordinates remaining.

"Filename: Coordinates, saved," the computer said. I didn't react, considering the interesting choice of words the "Chozo" had used.

Only two beings called me "my child," and one of them was certainly deceased by now. The other culprit, I wanted nothing to do with. The last time I'd seen it, I had almost died from malnourishment. I wouldn't get near it no matter what the bounty was.

What was there to be gained by accepting a mission from Mother Brain?

The music had ceased outside, and hundreds of inebriated voices filled the night, before they too slowly faded away. The computer purred and powered down, leaving the apartment in a dusty silence. Alone with my thoughts.

I could feel every sense telling me to lay back down. Not do anything.

Yet, I couldn't stop myself from eying the "call" option on the computer.

"I'm sorry…" Anthony's voice dropped to a whisper. "You want me to do what?"

"I need you to help me get a Federation Starfighter," I repeated. His hologram stared back at me, the whites of his eyes wide and pronounced in the grainy blue screen.

"Okay, one does not simply 'get' a Federation Starfighter. You need clearance to access the Pulaski Space Hangar, and I don't think 'former Federation Officer' is gonna cut it."

"I know, which is why you're gonna help me break in," I said, as if I were asking him to check the weather.

"Whoa, whoa, are you out of your mind?"

I said nothing.

"You know how much they micromanage that hangar? Last month, Thompson accidentally took a wrench home. I still haven't heard from him."

The morning sun began to peek in through the stark-white blinds. I'd stayed up all night, planning out how I would get to Zebes, calling Anthony until he finally answered, red-eyed and unkempt at 5 in the morning. I didn't need to plug the coordinates in anywhere. It was Mother Brain; I was sure of it.

"Anthony, nobody has to know. You have clearance, don't you?"

Anthony shook his head and huffed.

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna help you."

"All you need to do is open the door," I said.

"Well, that's…" He exhaled again. "Okay, sure, but you'll need the corresponding key to take off. The key vault requires level four clearance. I'm only a level three."

"Is there anyway you can get someone's level four badge?"

Anthony closed his eyes.

"Hell, Aran, I could be arrested for just talking about it."

"Answer the question, Anthony."

"Samus, what could possibly justify stealing a high-level clearance badge, breaking into a highly secure Federation facility, and jacking a ship from the Space Force?" Anthony asked, his voice low and accusatory. It was a voice I'd never heard from him. "You don't know, do you?"

I didn't know. Doubt greeted me like a pet after a long day from its owner. What if it was a trap? Someone could've easily hacked into Mother Brain's mainframe, read her log, and learned everything about me. What if the mission didn't pay well? I couldn't imagine the Chozo would put me up to something big, even if I was one of them.

"This conversation is over. Sorry, Samus." Anthony reached for the disconnect button below the screen.

"Wait," I said, closing my eyes. "I wouldn't have reached out to you if I didn't know what I was doing."

Anthony froze.

"I may not know what the reward is, but the client who reached out to me did so for a reason."

I trailed off. I didn't know what it was about this mission, but it felt different. Perhaps the 12 year-old in me wanted to see Zebes again, even if it meant Mother Brain. Get away from the damned smog of the ecumenopolis, the drunkards across the street, and the other niceties of living in the city.

"Something tells me I need to see this through, whether you choose to help me or not."

There was a moment's silence, as the sky outside was engulfed in fiery red. I could hear the engines of morning commuters soaring by. Anthony emitted a wry laugh.

"Still going out of your way to help those you don't even know, huh? You haven't changed a bit."

I stared resolutely back, knowing he too was thinking about Ian.

"Fine, twist my arm…"

I waited in silence for Anthony to return my call, the computer floating by its lonesome in the center of the room, chirping softly over the white noise of the ceiling fan. He'd hung up, worried someone could trace his location. He told me he'd call back later that morning.

The morning's sunrise was long gone now, the sun hidden behind a sea of coal-black clouds, which drenched the planet in a heavy downpour of corrosive, artificial rain. A thick layer of smog rose from the sidewalks like a soupy mist, encasing my complex in an acidic cocoon that punched at my olfactory nerves and obscured the city skyline.

Once more, I was isolated with doubt. It was a parasite, unlike any I ever dealt with.

Anthony wasn't going to call me back, I heard it tell me. He relayed my request to Adam like the good little soldier he was. Adam was already deploying a task force to retrieve me. I stared across the room at my paralyzer, nestled in its holster on the kitchen counter, mentally preparing myself to run for it at the first sound of a ship landing outside.

When I left the Federation, I wasn't allowed to keep my Spazer rifle. I wasn't allowed to keep anything, save for the memories, but even those were beginning to dissolve with each passing day. I had gotten the closest thing to an honorable discharge I could get, citing my mental health following the death of Ian as the reason I was leaving. There was discussion about honorable discharge, Adam had fought with all his might against it, forcing the Federation to settle with the lesser deal. No severance package. No medals or honors. I was allowed to walk, and that was it.

It was Anthony who'd given me his old Paralyzer and a used pair of jet boots.

"I wasn't gonna use them anyway," he'd said, waving off my thanks. "They're both hella outdated. Plus, I'm too big for those boots now."

I found out later that he'd set Adam on a warpath for doing so. He was forced to claim that he'd lost both items before the Federation Council, and was almost terminated for it.

This was far from the first time Anthony had stuck his neck out for me.

He'd given a few Bryonnians black eyes during the first week of training after they'd cornered me in the mess hall. Of course he'd taken the brunt of the beating, but he would insist he was fine, even as he spat blood from the massive cut on his upper lip.

Why he stuck his neck out so far, however, had always been a mystery to me. We naturally became closer after the Bryonnian incident, and though we each brought new friends into our circle over time, his dedication to me was always the strongest.

The boys in the group would tease, making kissing faces and winking at us whenever we sat down next to each other. Anthony would punch them away playfully, and the conversation would move on. Our relationship was not as simple or one-sided as a crush. It was more akin to a big brother, little sister dynamic, he being one year older than I was. And even as we both grew, I taller than him, that dynamic remained until the day I left.

The sound of a dull ringing snapped me back to reality, and I ran back into the living room to answer.

"Ok Aran, you ready for this?" came Anthony's whispering voice. The hologram would not open.

"Why aren't you showing up on my screen?" I asked.

"Can't show myself, not where I am now at least." His voice came in hurried breaths.

"Where are you?"

There was a slight pause.

"The showers on the fourth floor. I figured you didn't want to stare at men's asses the whole time we spoke."

"Always looking out for me. You haven't changed at all, Higgs."

"Whatever. Alright, so here's the plan. The showers I'm using are frequented by some of the Level Fours, since they're usually on…"

He paused for a moment. A scratching sound roared from the speakers, followed by watery footsteps.

"Sorry, I'm trying to find a spot where nobody can see me…anyway, I'm gonna try to jack a level four clearance card off one of these guys. Once I do that, we're on a hellish timetable."

More wet footsteps.

"You know how the accountability system works, right?"

I nodded. One of Adam's many paranoid pet projects.

"It tracks every weapon, tool, and card in the facility. Every hour, it runs a check-in procedure, which isolates the location of everything. If my calculations are correct, the next check-in is due to occur at 7:30."

I looked at the sharp numbers in the left corner of the screen, reading "7:16."

"I need to wait until 7:31 to make my move, because the hangar bay is considered out of the system's range. Trust me Aran, a missing level four clearance card is a big deal."

Anthony cleared his throat. I could hear more voices in the background.

"Hold on," he whispered, followed by more wet footsteps.

"Sorry, a bunch of commanders just walked in. Don't worry, ol' grumpy isn't one of them. Anyway, once I get it, we have an hour for you to get into space."

"Sounds simple enough," I said, already slipping my jet boots on.

"Yeah, but there's more. Each ship has a tracking device attached to it. Even if you get a key, you won't get far. The trackers can be removed, but it takes time."

Anthony sighed as I slipped the paralyzer he'd once given me into the holster on my tracksuit.

"As I see it, we're barely gonna have enough time to get this done. And if I don't get this card back in range of the system in time, my career is over."

A pang of guilt punched my stomach.

"Anthony…" I started.

"Don't worry about it, Aran, I'll be fine. Get to the hangar as soon as possible. If I'm successful, I'll meet you there within the hour. If not…well, just get to the hangar for now."

His voice cut out, leaving me alone in a silent apartment once more, as the downpour intensified.

An hour later, I stood before the powerless, blast-shielded door leading to the hangar. The rain had ceased, although the noxious fumes continued to pollute the air, rising from puddles of clay-like water that reflected the overcast sky.

I pulled my arms to my chest and shivered, squinting and peering through the haze at the crimson numbers of the digital clock on the Capital Building in the distance, reading 8:10. The window was closing fast; where the hell was Anthony?

My heart sank. Lending an outsider your outdated paralyzer and jet boots was one thing, but stealing a commander's level four card? Those were the kinds of people you read about on the front pages of Federation Police blotters, their faces gnarled and pained, blotched red with fear. The evil of the Space Pirates was unconscionable, but the Federation could be worse.

8:11.

I assumed the worst, and grabbed the tiny sack containing my computer, prepared to plan my next method of attack, when hurried footsteps thundered up the stairwell.

I instinctively withdrew my paralyzer and fell to the ground, prepared to fire. I sighed and got to my feet as Anthony appeared, gasping for air but only finding fumes.

"Sorry," he wheezed, "it's a long story."

"I have time." A small red card hanging from his waist caught my eye, oscillating in the heavy gusts of wind.

"You, uh…don't want to know…" he mumbled, opening a small electric box on the hangar wall, typing on the small keypad it revealed. A single light ran through the thin lavender wire connecting it to the doorway, jolting the blast shield to life.

"I'd like to know why it took so long," I said, as Anthony quickly checked the time.

"Well," he started, "the commanders keep their cards on them, even when they're in the shower."

Perhaps he'd hoped I would leave it at that…but he should have known better.

"And?"

His gaze veered upward, as if he were suddenly fascinating by the waning storm clouds.

"Remember Orin Boczogo?"

I didn't answer, although I did know Orin. He was a relatively distinguished commander, having served in the Bes III conflict, although he was better known by the soldiers for his unusual social quirks. They would whisper about the way he stared at Adam, almost as if he were longing for him.

"Well, I followed him in to his stall and…convinced him to give me his card."

"How did you convince him?" I asked, the unfamiliar sensation of my lips curling into a smile burning my face.

"Let's not talk about it anymore," he muttered as the keypad finally emitted the desired buzzing sound. A deep gong sound rang out, as five red power nodes jutted out from the wall around the door.

"Stand back," Anthony said, drawing his Spazer rifle and pulling lightly on the trigger. Light energy swarmed around the barrel, forming a sphere of energy. Anthony smirked as his eyes caught mine, perhaps noticing a hint of jealousy in my expression.

"You miss this, don't you?" he asked, releasing the trigger. Five blasts of energy burst from the energy sphere and hit the nodes simultaneously. The purple blast shield shattered, and the door slowly opened to reveal a fleet of near-identical silver Federation Fighters. Anthony winked at me, flipped the flashlight attachment on, and went in.

I waited outside, nervously casting a glance at the clock in the distance, which now read 8:14.

"Clear!" Anthony's voice reverberated. I entered the vast, mechanical stomach, examining the smooth surfaces of the starfighters. No two ships were alike; some had scratches, dents, and burn marks from past skirmishes. A strong stench of fuel pervaded from them, as if they'd only recently been parked. I'd never been fascinated by aeronautics as a young soldier, but seeing them up close, knowing one of them would be mine The hell they saw as their aeronautic brothers were picked off by cold, uncouth Space Pirate Fighters.

"Don't shop too long, I've only got a few minutes to get the card back in range." His voice was tired. The dry smell of jet exhaust was draining us both.

That was when a flash of purple caught the corner of my eye. I stepped back to see, nestled under a thick fort of fire-suppression blankets against the wall, a Fireflea-shaped starfighter. The outside was painted a deep purple, the turqouise-blue of the windshield casting a glaring back at me. It was smooth like the others, although thin black ridges intricately ran around the outside. Aside from a thin layer of dust, the exterior looked to be in perfect shape.

"No," Anthony called to me from across the bay. I stared him down as he shook his head.

"What's wrong with it?"

Anthony casually pointed his rifle at it.

"That thing's ancient history. You try to fly that in space, the last thing that'll go through your mind will be the windshield."

"Why don't you come and see for yourself?"

Anthony glanced at the clock on his wrist.

"We don't have time for games, Aran. Just pick a ship so I can get the key."

I glanced longingly at the old starfighter, something catching my eye in the leather interior. A single cylindrical key was hanging from the overhead display.

"Anthony, the key's already in this one."

"You're not taking that one," he said more forcefully.

"Yes I am."

Anthony and I stared each other down. The greasy walls of the bay glittered for a moment as the sun peeked out from behind the thick sea of clouds. His lips curled into that trademark smile as the sun illuminated my stubborn features.

"Still that stubborn lady," he laughed. I resisted the urge to walk up and punch him, but in a moment, he'd come over and crawled under the ship. He grunted every time he saw something he didn't like…which was often.

"Well, the good news is there's no tracker on this thing, probably because it's out of commission. There's a reason for that, though. The fuel line shows signs of aging, and the thrusters look like they haven't been cleaned in a decacycle."

He emerged with a troubled expression, his hand under his chin in deep thought.

"This thing'll get you out of the system, but I don't know how far."

"That's all I need. I can take care of myself, Anthony. You should head back to HQ."

Anthony stood up, and before I could react he'd embraced me. My stomach lurched as the protective pads of his suit bared into it.

"Just promise me you'll come back here when you've cleaned house," he whispered in my ear. I slowly returned the hug, trying hard to keep the tears from forming in my eyes.

"I don't make promises."

We pulled apart, and Anthony grabbed for the little red card, twiddling it in his fingers.

"Boy, I'm really glad I went through all of that for this little card now…" he said sarcastically.

"Me too," said a cold, high-pitched voice behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

"I must say, Anthony, you were…very convincing," said Orin Boczogo, his voice light and tenor. Federation troopers swarmed in through the entrance like blue pillbugs, forming a wall behind Orin.

Anthony grabbed my hand, sending a guilty pang rush through my body. Orin smiled and pushed back on his hair, which was dark yellow like a field of dying grains.

"How'd you know?" asked Anthony, defeat in his voice.

"I didn't have to. You did all the talking for me," Orin responded, holding up a small transmitter. Anthony scanned every inch of his uniform, but to no avail. "It's not on your uniform, Anthony. You know where I put it."

Anthony's face contracted in disgust.

"That's why you reached down there?"

I reached down and put a hand on my paralyzer, trying to get that disturbing image out of my head.

Orin's lips curled menacingly around his pointed nose, his ghost-white eyes piercing us like arrows. Even now, older and far-removed from our lives as trainees, we got the uncomfortable feeling he could read minds.

"I did enjoy our time together Anthony, but after second thought," he started before turning to me, "I don't swing that way."

I shivered violently.

"I don't take orders from you anymore," I said, drawing my weapon and aiming at his chest. A hundred spazer rifles aimed at me in response, and Orin laughed derisively. It was a pompous, artificial sound, that lasted an uncomfortably long time. Anthony began to pace back, and I followed his lead.

"Look what's become of you, Lady. Holding your little stun gun at your CO," he sneered. I exhaled as my back hit the starfighter behind us.

"I'll make this easy for you, Higgs," Orin drawled, his stare unwavering. "Turn the girl over to me, and Adam hears nothing of this."

There was a moment's silence. I could see Anthony cringing at the thought of handing me over.

"That little card around your waist." Orin nodded towards the clearance card, dangling loosely from Anthony's belt. "As I see it, there's no way you'll be in range within the next three minutes. If you're found with it, losing your badge won't be the worst thing that happens to you…but if I have it, I have far less to lose than you do."

Anthony stared at the greasy floor, eyes wide in thought. He now held the fate of two lives in his hands; his and mine.

"Anthony," I said, leaning down in an attempt to catch his gaze.

To my surprise, he winked, and cocked his head towards a pile of oil drums against the wall, directly behind the left flank of soldiers. Perhaps Orin had noticed them too, as red flushed into his cheeks.

"Set your weapons to stun," Orin ordered in a hurried voice, the clicking of a hundred weapons following the command. "Make the smart choice here Anthony."

It was Anthony's turn to smile.

"I'm making the only choice."

He pulled out his rifle and fired at the drums. A wall of flames engulfed the room, making the ground shake and the men scream, and I could only watch as Anthony set his rifle to stun. My heart froze as Orin raised his rifle and aimed, but Anthony was faster, setting his rifle to stun and firing a shot right in Orin's chest that sent him spiraling in the air and crashing hard in a puddle of oil.

"Shoot…him," Orin managed to wheeze. The men who could get to their feet fired at us, the rain of orange paralyzing blasts forcing us to duck behind the starfighter.

"What do we do now?!" I shouted over the commotion, blasting a soldier in the face as he jumped out from the other side of the ship.

"I don't know, you're the one who usually bails us out of trouble!" Anthony shouted, leaning out and firing at the advancing soldiers. I looked around the hangar for anything we could use, until I heard Anthony exclaim.

"I'm gonna run out and draw their fire! You take that chance to get in the ship and take off!"

He leaned out to run, but I pulled him back.

"How are you gonna get out of here then?"

Anthony stared back at me solemnly, and I understood. There was a million things I wanted to say, but he spoke first.

"Just promise me they won't find your body floating in an asteroid belt somewhere."

I smiled at him, perhaps for the last time.

"Okay."

He smiled back before running into the fire. I dove under a spray of paralyzing shots and crawled under the ship, scanning the underbelly for the entry hatch. I felt a bolt singe my cheek, the orange light illuminating the underbelly just long enough for the words "open hatch" to catch my eye. I took two shots at the small switch, cursing as both missed. Another bolt burned the tip of my nose, and ten sets of feet began rapidly advancing towards me.

Finally, on the fourth try, I hit the switch at the last possible second. An azure ray of light blinded and enveloped me. Though I couldn't see, I felt a curious sensation, as if I were being lifted into the air. I opened my eyes and looked down, realizing at once that I was being lifted into the ship, and that the paralyzing bolts were ricocheting off the beam pulling me up.

Once finally inside, I felt my way through the dark cabin and into the cockpit, feeling very much like a child in the seat of a car as I stared out the cockpit window. The control panel was lifeless, save for a single pulsing orange light, indicating the ship wasn't powered on.

It was then that I heard Anthony's mocking voice echoed around the bay. From the windshield, I could see him hiding behind the rubble left by the oil explosion, effortlessly picking off the mindless soldiers swarming my ship

"C'mon, c'mon…" I muttered, grabbing the key from the overhead and trying to force it into the rusted ignition. Some of the soldiers broke from the blue mass and began firing on Anthony, who was forced to dive for cover.

"Have a taste of this, privates!" Anthony laughed. It was the last thing I heard him say. A perfectly aimed bolt pierced his shooting hand, sending the rifle flying out of his hands. Holding his arm, he leaned out in a vain attempt to grab his weapon as a second bolt caught him in the chest. A third shot caught him in the side of the face, before the fourth, decisive shot hit his neck, and he collapsed to the floor.

I shook my head in disgust.

"Sorry, Anthony…" I whispered, my chest heavy as the key finally slid into the ignition. The engines of the ship sputtered for a moment. I went numb, thinking the ship wouldn't start at all, until the engines exploded to life. The soldiers exclaimed as they were pushed to the ground.

The feeling back in my arms, I looked down at the controls, figuring the yoke in the center of the column controlled the altitude.I pulled back as hard as I could, in an attempt to pull it up. After what felt like an eternity, the ship finally planed at 40 degrees.

That was when I noticed the hangar bay getting darker. I looked toward the entrance to see the doors closing, screeching in protest as they eclipsed the sun's light.

"No, no, no…" I moaned, pulling back on the throttle. The ship lurched forward, before being yanked back. I barely managed to get my hand out asmy head swung dangerously forward. Of course; the ship was still chained to the floor.

"Damn it!" I exclaimed, slamming my hand on the control panel. How could I have missed it? The light outside was growing dimmer and dimmer, and the soldiers were getting back to their feet. This is how it ends… I thought, closing my eyes.

A noisy clang sound below forced my eyes open.

"Chain released," said the ship's pleasant voice, which sounded eerily similar to my computer. I threw all of my weight on the throttle before I could even think about it. The resulting motion forced me back into my seat, gritting my teeth as the wings of the ship scraped the closing hangar doors.

I managed one look back at the hangar, and saw the man in blue where my ship had been chained. In one final show of compassion, Anthony crawled to his feet, and managed to give me the thumbs up.

To this day, I still wonder if he saw me return the favor.

"Pull up," the ship warned. I didn't have time to think about it. I faced forward just in time to see the tip of the Capitol Building rapidly approaching. I practically stood on the central yoke in an attempt to pull up in time, exhaling as I somehow managed to clear it. Unfortunately, I was far from out of trouble. The instant I pulled up, a loud pong echoed around the cabin, and a garbled voice came through.

"Unauthorized departure. Pilot, return to base or you will be fired upon." Though tinny from the high volume of building interference, I could recognize the voice of Captain Aeries. The soldiers jokingly referred to him as the "Kindergarten Teacher," since he normally worked with the youngest recruits. Though he was fairly patient with the youngsters, having once forgiven me for nearly crashing a training starfighter into the Memorial Bridge, he was revered by the older soldiers and CO's as the best pilot in the Galactic Federation.

"Captain, it's Samus Aran. Repeat, this is Samus Aran. I have permission from HQ to commandeer this vessel on a bounty hunting mission."

There was a moment's silence on the other end of the line. Two quiet beeps drew my eyes to the radar adjacent to the control yoke, where two green dots had just appeared, slowly bearing in on the big orange dot in the center. Ironically, it had been Captain Aeries who'd taught me that green dots normally indicated allied ships. That was certainly not the case now.

"Aran? Is that really you?" Even with the interference, I could hear the slightest hint of melancholy in his voice.

"Yes, I repeat, this is Samus Aran. Captain, I have permission from the Federation to use this ship on a mission of critical importance. Order your ships to pull out."

Another moment's silence, as the green scavengers grew closer to their prey.

"Barring signed permission from Chairman Vogl himself, I cannot let you exit the atmosphere. You know this, Samus."

The dots began to pick up velocity. My heart skipped a beat as one of the dots transformed into a triangle, indicating the ship was armed. I pulled back on the central yoke again, until I was practically perpendicular to the city below. The clouds of acid rain grew thicker and thicker, the voices of the pilots growing more and more garbled the higher up I went. It wasn't until they began thinning out, revealing a brilliant fuchsia sky, that I spoke again.

"Captain Aeries, I know my departure hurt you," I said. "I should've told you why I left, I should've come to you for advice…"

Static on the other end.

"I can never work for the Federation again, and I will not apologize for taking the path I've chosen. But as a friend to you…I'm sorry."

More static. We both sat in silence. I heard what sounded like a drone approaching from behind the ship. I should've expected the answer I received.

"I'm sorry too..."

The two fighters cut their engines, and fell into a firing position behind me. The sea of pink was quickly becoming an inky black…I'd come so close. I closed my eyes, resigned to my fate, waiting for the world to explode around me.

"Fall back," came the Captain's voice, his voice feeble like a wingless bird. "She's out of the atmosphere."

I watched as the two green triangles begrudgingly disappeared off the radar. Looking up, the stars seemed to slowly fall around me like snowflakes, illuminating and vanishing as I slowly reached light speed.

"Thank you," I muttered.

"Just make sure you're not in too far over your head, Lady."

I pondered what to say for a final remark, but by then the distance between us was too great, and only static was coming through. For a moment, I stared down at the city-planet below. Once upon a time, ten years ago, my face had been glued to the window of a ship known as the G.F.S Ragnarok, my excited breaths fogging the glass. It had been sunset on that day too, the buildings bathed in a romantic lavender like they were now.

Leaving it behind, as it turned out, was much more exciting. I entered the coordinates Mother Brain had given me, barely surprised when the monotone voice spoke.

"Setting course for Planet Zebes."

And taking one last look at Daiban from space, which was now nothing more than a maze of man-made relics, the engines roared and a blizzard of stars rained down.

I was back on Zebes. I was standing on Ridley's carcass, holding something in my hands that I couldn't see. It was gelatinous, foreign, and yet I felt like a mother holding her child.

There was cheering. A crowd of Chozo stood below me, chanting something I couldn't understand. After a few moments, I recognized it as the song Old Bird would sing to lull me to sleep. The one I'd heard at the club across the street on Daiban.

Then, something ripped the…whatever it was out of my hands. The thief landed in front of me, turning to meet my gaze. My heart raced as I recognized the Luminoth from Daiban. His mandibles were more pronounced now, and were curled into an arrogant smile.

I tried to take the object back, but I had suddenly grown two feet shorter. I was 12 years old again. Though I jumped and reached as high as I could, I couldn't reach it, and the Luminoth broke out into an ugly cackle. Another sensation greeted me then; a prickly one, centered around my ankle. I stifled a scream as five sharp talons curled around my foot, a familiar blood-curdling screech rattling my ear canal.

Ridley stood to his feet, his fiery eyes ignited once more. He flapped his wings angrily, causing me to lose my balance. Over the chanting of the crowd, I heard the Luminoth whisper something in my ear.

"…engage…disengage…"

Ridley's beak opened to reveal a set of blackened teeth. I was powerless to stop him.

"Disengage…disengage…"

The dragon lunged at me, opening his jaw in an attempt to swallow me whole…

"Disengage!"

A crash of thunder rocked the starfighter. I unfurled from my sleeping position and crumpled to the floor in a heap. The sleepy blackness of space was gone, and had given way to a sea of thick, tan clouds. An acrid, sulfuric smell burned my nostrils and made my eyes water, and for a moment I thought I'd somehow crashed into a volcano.

"Disengage!"

Every button on the ship's dashboard was flashing. I scrambled to my feet, looking wildly for the autopilot switch. Just as I found it, another flash of lightning blinded me. The ship shook violently again, the lights flickering.

"Disengage, disengage!"

I shook my head and slammed my fist down on the autopilot button. This would be a mistake. I fell forward as the ship took a nosedive, heading straight for what I believed to be the planet's surface.

"Pull up, pull up!"

I looked out the windshield in confusion before a massive totem swam out of the darkness, too quickly for me to avoid. The windshield cracked as the ship plowed through the totem, which emitted a sick crunch as it split in half.

"Critical damage, engine cut."

"Ah…ah," I muttered in desperation as the engine sputtered out and died. Seeing no other choice, I sat down and buckled in, pulling as hard as I could on the altitude controls in an attempt to reach a safe angle for landing.

Even larger totems were now clawing at the ship, as if the Chozo were trying to catch it like an insect.

The clouds finally vanished, and the gray surface of Crateria greeted me like an old friend.

"Pull up, pull up!"

"I can't," I bellowed in spite of myself. I closed my eyes, and waited for impact. If the other two hits were hard, I can't think of a word that describes the landing on the planet's surface. It was as if the world exploded. The windshield shattered upon impact, tiny shards of glass and cold, jagged rocks raining down on me. The daylight vanished, and the ship's power was cut out. The starfighter's underbelly skidded across the jagged surface of the planet for what seemed like an eternity, a hard bump sending my head careening into the front console. This time, I wasn't able to brace for the impact.

My vision swam as the ship finally skidded to a halt. I closed my eyes and drifted off again, unable to help myself. The smooth voice of the ship spoke one last time.

"You have arrived on…planet Zebes." Then everything was still.


	5. Chapter 5

When I finally awoke, rubbing my head where it had slammed into the control panel, I realized at once that I wasn't in my ship anymore. The tundra-like winds of Crateria that had nipped at my skin as I drifted in and out of consciousness had fanned out. Now the air was stagnant, cool, and yet the volcanic smell was stronger than before.

It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the harsh, artificial light of the room, and I realized I was lying down in some sort of examination room. At the foot of the bed was a large window, through which streamed a fiery-orange aura. I got to my feet and followed the light until I could look down into the dark crater below, where the lights of other labs and medical bays nestled in the surrounding rock outfalls flickered in time with the percolating lava.

I'd been down here before. This was the Norfair Crater, where all Chozo research on Zebes was conducted. Remote and far beneath the surface, away from the prying eyes of the surface public. It was also where the planet's medical facilities were based, and I'd spent many a night in these very rooms in my youth.

"Dangerous curiosity," was how Old Bird's acquaintances described me after one instance in which I attempted to climb one of the Chozo totems on the surface, only to lose my grip and break my arm.

"Don't tell me you didn't want to climb the totems as a child," Old Bird would respond, and they would be forced to concede.

"You're awake."

The curt voice of Mother Brain brought me reluctantly back to the present. Though its voice was programmed to be monotonous, like most AI, it wasn't hard to detect a hint of cynicism. I looked around the room for the source of the voice, and realized it was communicating over the intercom.

"Your piloting skills need sharpening. You're lucky I didn't let the geemers feed on you."

It was the only response I could've expected from Mother Brain.

"Don't get comfortable. You're due in the conference room in Sector 2X in ten minutes. We will give you your instructions once you arrive."

There was a clicking sound as her voice cut out, leaving me in the droning silence once more. My stomach howled in pain, seeking food, but I knew better than to ask Mother.

The volcano spun like a top as I rounded the Chozo research complex. I'd been doting on something Mother Brain had said.

"We will give you your instructions once you arrive…"

Who was "we?" I'd been under the impression Mother Brain was acting alone, or had simply processed a request from the Chozo High Command.

More questions presented themselves as I passed through empty hall after empty hall. Save for the eerie warbling of the lab equipment and the dull exhalations of the ventilation system, the halls were devoid of life, and were deathly silent. No scientists, doctors, or even cleaners impeded me in the narrow passageways. If the chromatic floors weren't so reflective, I would've led myself to believe the facility had been abandoned.

Who was "we?"

When I finally found the conference room, a mass of feathers engulfed me, and my question was answered.

"Hey bro," a familiar voice whispered in my ear. My eyes were watering before Dryn had even finished. His voice was deeper now, and his feathers were a dark, mature shade of gold. He towered over me as he pulled away, and I noticed the plume of hair on his head, almost in the shape of a mohawk, rustling in the slight breeze of the artificial air.

"Welcome home," he said, showing off his wingspan. I didn't have time to think of a response before another familiar voice came from the other side of the room.

"Stealing my lines now, are you?"

For a moment, I thought I was hearing things, but Dryn rolled his eyes and moved out of my line of vision to reveal the source of the voice, leaning on the conference room table.

If Old Bird looked old when I last saw him, he looked positively ancient now. I could barely make out his eyes through the mass of white feathers covering his face, trembling as if covered in snow. I could still make out the faintest smile crossing his beak.

Old Bird laughed as if he were ten decacycles younger.

"It's good to see you, child," he choked out, as I ran over and embraced him

"The circumstances could be better, I suppose."

The cold voice of Mother Brain was the last thing I wanted to hear. I looked up from the mass of silver feathers to see her physical form. IV tubes and wiring sprouting from the bio-mass in the center of the tank. The thing's sole eye was puffy and agitated, as if the sight befalling it was making it nauseous.

"If you two are done…" it began, but I spoke quicker.

"How are you still alive?" I asked Old Bird as we pulled apart. He rested a heavy wing on the table, and coughed for an uncomfortable amount of time.

"I knew we would meet again some day, and I wasn't going to let my body quit before then. Though, it almost did…"

I looked over at Dryn, his expression solemn.

"He's had some heart troubles," he said with that familiar lisp. The statement was spoken like a true Chozo doctor.

"Hearts are more than organs, young one," Old Bird rasped, coughing again. "And the body is more than just a vessel of muscles and veins. It's a vehicle of willpower, and as long as I have the yoke, I will remain rooted to this life."

The resolve in his voice made the room a bit brighter, but I couldn't help but look over at the mass of veins in the murky tank in the corner of the room, and my brother, knowing they both silently disagreed.

"Where is everyone else?" I asked, in an attempt to change the subject.

Dryn's countenance remained solemn.

"Our numbers have…dwindled in recent cycles," he said, suddenly fascinated with something in the outside hallway."Too many to take care of. Overpopulation, not enough advancement, food shortages. It was the same problem they had when you lived here, Samus."

I turned on Mother Brain.

"This has your fingerprints all over it."

"Samus…" Old Bird wheezed, but Mother Brain cut him off.

"You're a dangerously obsessive girl. What happened with you occurred eons ago."

"You were created to nourish infant Chozo, and failed to do so spectacularly," I persisted. "If it weren't for Old Bird's intervention, I would've been dead at age four."

"Please, cease…" Old Bird tried to cut in, but Mother Brain was louder.

"Dead? Oh, cut the melodrama. If anything, you were overweight anyway. A fat little thing that had been spoiled rotten for the first three years of her life. You needed a reality check."

"Enough," Old Bird said loudly, which took its toll on him. It took half a minute for him to stop coughing. Mother Brain and I continued to stare at one another, neither of us backing down until Old Bird spoke again.

"A glitch in Mother Brain's programming aside, she has done great work for our civilization since then, maintaining the research facility in the absence of our science team."

He cleared his throat. I turned and gazed out the window, which offered a better view of the crater than the hospital wing. Thin rays of sunlight streamed in through the opening in the planet's crust above.

"I'll respect your wishes, Beaky, though I refuse to gender that thing."

I shot an angry glance at Mother Brain one final time.

"Mindless machines don't get that courtesy from me."

Old Bird sighed.

"Very well, but I need you two to be on the same page.

"Samus," he started. I blinked. Very rarely did Old Bird use my first name. "As joyous as this reunion is, there is another reason you're here."

Dryn moved to the front of the room and pressed a button next to a large display screen, turning it on.

"Before I explain your mission, I need to explain to you one of the most protected Chozo secrets; that of the great Chozo Schism."

An image appeared on the screen. It looked like a typical government summit, populated by Chozo. It was a great chamber, similar in shape to the crater below us. The insignia of the Chozo High Command was proudly displayed on two great tapestries that hung from something above the image. The Chozo's beaks were wide open, as if they were debating something heatedly. In the center was a plinth, where a younger Chozo was extending his arms towards the sea of onlookers, as if trying to get their attention.

"Schism?" I asked.

"As you know, the Chozo populate four planets: Elysia, SR-388, the fourth moon of Tallon, and our capital of Zebes. For centuries, the four branches of the Chozo tree coexisted. Our technology and heritage was a beacon in the galaxy, and our work contributed greatly to the rise of several other great civilizations. As far as the outside world is concerned, both facts remain true today."

I could see great sadness in Old Bird's eyes.

"However, around the time you were born, cracks began to form."

The image on the screen changed to a portrait of a skinny, gaunt Chozo official. He looked to be around as old as Old Bird, though age had done something completely different to him. A permanent scowl was written on his face, and his beak was cracked in the middle. Though not as pale as Old Bird, his feathers were beginning to whiten around the neck.

I couldn't shake the strange feeling that I'd not only seen, but met him, somewhere before.

"This is my younger brother, and your adopted uncle, Gray Voice."

Now I remembered. I remembered how he had made me cry a lot as a child, yelling at me because I wanted to play outside with boys instead of stay inside and study for my exams. I would tell Old Bird I didn't want to spend time with my uncle anymore, but who simply smiled and said his brother did love me; he just showed it a bit differently. In the same way Mother Brain loved me, I suppose.

"At a very young age, he assumed a leadership role on planet SR-388. Though he was ruthlessly intelligent and charismatic, he was dangerously passionate. Abrasive. Easy to cave to his emotions."

He paused and made an unsettling choking noise, though he was merely clearing his throat. The percolating lava was growing in pitch, and Dryn curiously peeked a glance outside before returning to the monitor.

"My brother wanted to move Chozo civilization in a new direction. He wanted to focus on technological, infrastructural, and military advancements, and was very openly hostile to what he considered 'tired' Chozo tradition.

"As you might imagine, his ideals were not well received by the Council, and he was often castigated by his peers in the Order. It seemed his political days were numbered, until he managed to elicit the support of Platinum Chest from Elysia."

The image flickered again, and another Chozo official, who made Old Bird look like a newborn chick, appeared on screen. So old and whithered were his feathers that they covered his face completely, giving him a pained, sorrowful expression.

"Ol' Chesty was getting old in the beak in those days, and his political skills were dulling. There were rumors he was on the chopping block as well. Gray Voice took advantage of the fact, holding several private meetings with Chesty, and convinced him to see his side in exchange for political support.

"Now, with support from Elysia, Gray Voice had a lot more clout in the Order, and what had once been peaceful, informative debates gradually declined into verbal spats and endless bureaucracy. Two factions formed, with Zebes and Tallon IV taking the side of Chozo tradition, and SR-388 and Elysia emphasizing a devotion to advancement. The latter faction would go on to call themselves the True Chozo."

There was a moment's silence, and I took a seat at the conference table thoughtfully. My entire young adult life, I'd bragged to my peers in the Federation about the cohesiveness of the Chozo. We would be watching the weekly "lover's quarrel" between Chairman Vogl and Congressman Uleg Keaton, laughing as both men's faces grew more red as the night went on, I feeling immense pride that I came from a society so above the folly of men.

I felt as if a great rug had been pulled out from under me, and, for the first time, felt as if I didn't have a homeworld.

"I can see your anger, child," Old Bird rasped. I turned on him.

"All these years, I felt such pride in being one of you. To know there are men like him in the Chozo political sphere too…I find that frustrating."

"I find everything about your species to be frustrating," Mother Brain said from the corner.

Before I could round on that damned AI, Old Bird had held up his wing to stop me. His face had fallen again, his feathers more gray than they'd ever been.

"My brother and I have had our disagreements, but our respect for one another has survived through it all. It was he who gifted Mother Brain to us, after all."

Another reason to hate him.

"But alas, this all dovetails into your mission, Samus."

Old Bird nodded at Dryn, who channeled a new image on screen. It was a thermal image of a microscopic organism. Its nucleus was a cold blue, yet the membrane was hot, so much so I wondered how the nucleus didn't simply melt.

Mother Brain now spoke.

"In the years following the Schism, Gray Voice gradually focused less on his political ambitions and more on his research. He led the development of several new technologies on both Elysia and his homeworld, selling many of them to the Federation and other provincial governments in order to fund arms development and his nw military force.

"He also made many contributions to the fields of biology, and discovered the cures for many Chozo diseases. His work is the reason your," its voice paused for a moment, as if it were leering at me, "adopted father…is still here."

"What am I looking at?" I interrupted, unnerved at the sheer, thermal impossibility of the microorganism on the screen in front of me.

"This is a strain of the waterborne De'La virus (named after famed Chozo epidemiologist De'La) that Gray Voice bio-engineered."

I cast Old Bird an uncomfortable look. He merely nodded his head at the monitor, instructing me to keep looking.

"His intention was to isolate a gene within the original strain that he believed could slow the physical aging process of humans, Chozo, and countless other species. Needless to say, this task was above even him, and he reached out to the Galactic Federation and, eventually, the Chozo High Council, for help."

The image changed again to show a balding human with black pits for eyes. There was an air of "ruthless intelligence" to him as well, and yet an untamed wildness lurked behind his steely gaze. His dirty, almond hair hung loosely down to his shoulders.

"The Federation responded by sending this man, Oney Briss, a galaxy-renowned virologist, to assist him. In the meantime, Zebes offered its use of the lakes of Maridia as a testing ground for the virus. It was a decision that wasn't very popular with the public."

I read the look on Old Bird's face.

"You wanted to bring Gray Voice back to the table, didn't you?" I asked, to which Old Bird's face cracked into a melancholic smile.

"Unfortunately for us both," Old Bird started, "the work took a bad turn. He discovered that the Federation was going to steal his work and promote it as their own development, and subsequently expelled Briss from the research team. Briss, who as it turns out was in the early stages of mania, ordered his scientists to alter the virus to make it even more deadly. I was forced to quarantine the Maridian waters from the rest of the planet, and Gray Voice left our flock once again."

Old Bird paused. A sense of dread overcame me, as I realized where the conversation was going.

"You're about to tell me the virus wasn't contained."

Old Bird suddenly looked very tired, his feathers sagging. He looked like Platinum Chest now.

"Before he was forcibly removed from the planet, Briss managed to fill two dozen vials with infected water, enough to kill ten million," explained Mother Brain. "The Federation chose not to press charges, instead attempting to sweep the whole thing under the rug."

A mirthful bubble rose to the surface of Mother Brain's tank and popped.

"I can't believe you ever wanted to serve these people. The Federation is corrupt and arrogant, and they will pay the price for it."

I could detect a hint of longing in Mother Brain's voice, as if the statement were a promise, not a warning.

"Needless to say, my records show that he was dismissed a few months later anyway, under Federation Statute 20.02, Dismissal under grounds of life-affecting illness or disease."

"So…you're telling me the Federation dismissed this lunatic, knowing he had several vials of a doomsday virus he could release at any time?" I asked.

Another silence, aside from the whirring of the display monitor. We all jumped as a loud booming from outside shook the floor, and a voluminous spout of flames regurgitated from the volcano below.

"Why me?" I asked suddenly. Old Bird and Dryn exchanged glances. Another bubble popped in Mother Brain's tank. "If this is the Federation's problem, why aren't they handling it?"

"It's election season, Samus," Old Bird droned, his voice quiet and forced. "The last thing Vogl needs is for the public to know that a dangerous bioweapon was let loose under his administration."

I could see Vogl in the line of fire now, wearing that trademark smile. His eyes twitching back and forth, looking for a way out.

"But even so, why me? Why not a more experienced hunter?"

To this, Old Bird beamed, as did Dryn.

"There is no one else in the galaxy we Chozo trust more than one of our own."

The sentiment didn't make me feel any better. I looked down at the paralyzer around my waist, and the jet boots, covered in soot from the planet's surface, on my feet. Not nearly enough if I were to meet a force of Space Pirates. I remembered that I didn't have a ship anymore either.

"I see the look in your eyes, bro," Dryn said calmly. He brushed a few feathers out of his face. "You're right, you're not properly equipped for the mission…yet."

"What do you mean?"

Dryn smirked. Outside, the volcano was growing more restless, and we had to speak up over the explosions of gas and fire. Dryn reached for something behind the display.

The ceiling opened above us, and a tank similar to Mother Brain's began to descend. As the volcano's rage reached a crescendo, the breath caught in my throat. The contents of the tank were in full view.

A bright orange, human-sized suit of armor was suspended inside. A red helmet and breast plate rested where the head would normally, flanked by two jagged shoulder pads. The suit curved in and thinned out around the abdomen, just like my body.

Perhaps Old Bird saw the look on my face, for he began to laugh merrily again. I couldn't take my eyes off of it, especially the barrel-shaped appendage that wrapped around the right arm. Only the most advanced warriors in the galaxy were lucky to wield arm cannons.

"Meet my greatest creation," Dryn said with a flush, as the tank finally settled into place. "I call it the Power Suit."


	6. Chapter 6

In order to wear the suit, Dryn informed me, Chozo DNA would need to be implanted within me.

"How?" I'd asked. Dryn jammed a syringe into my shoulder blade, as if to answer my question.

"Oh, sorry, probably should've warned you. What? You never did like needles," he added, seeing the look on my face.

Dryn pushed down on the side of the tank, and the Power Suit fell out and crashed to the table. I wondered how I was going to get inside, when the suit vanished…no, it shrunk. It was now no larger than a thumb drive.

"Pick it up," Dryn indicated. Wondering what good the suit would be like this, I attempted to coddle the orange cube in my hand. The instant I touched it, however, it burst and released an orange aura that immediately enveloped me. Every hair on my body stood on end, as the jagged exoskeleton wrapped around my feet and legs. It licked at my abdomen and chest like a bright orange flame, until they too were covered in a layer of thick armor. The helmet clamped around my head, as the last fragments of armor clicked into place.

For a second, I relished in the immense power surrounding me, before it caved in and I collapsed to the ground, as if the weight of one hundred galaxies were pushing down on me.

"What do you think?" came Dryn's voice from what seemed like a great distance.

"It's a bit…heavy," I said with great effort.

"Five cycles of hard work, and it's 'a bit heavy.'" I could hear his hands hitting his sides. He had always been easy to frustrate.

"Try standing."

My instincts protested.

"I can't."

"Will yourself up. Trust me."

I silently began to question my brother's sanity, but moved the muscles required to stand anyway. Instead of giving in, I managed to get to my feet with little effort at all.

"The suit doesn't weigh anything once it's powered on. It feels heavy because the Chozo DNA hasn't properly entered the bloodstream yet. Moving any muscle is gonna require a lot of willpower until it's properly diffused.

I supposed willpower wouldn't be a problem for me.

"Beaky, should I show her my other present?"

Old Bird, who looked tired beyond words, simply motioned to the screen, where an orange gunship stared back at me with the same gaze cast by my helmet visor. Three cylindrical engines jutted out at the bottom of the ship like a tripod, keeping it propelled in the air.

I pointed at the screen, my lips unable to form the words necessary to convey my thanks. All Dryn could do was smile proudly.

"You've kept busy," I said finally.

"I believe 'thank you' is what you meant."

I stared back at the screen. At my ship. My ship. My Power Suit growing lighter with every second.

"Now, about your bounty," Mother Brain spoke up after a moment of excited silence. "This gunship, and your Power Suit,are your rewards for completing the mission. We have something akin to faith that you, with these weapons, are the galaxy's best hope for eliminating the virus."

"I'm surprised a computer such as yourself would be willing to dabble in something as frivolous as faith."

"This is not faith, you little brat. I've done the calculations, and the chances of failure are minimal."

"And on top of that, yes, we do have faith," Old Bird nodded, in an attempt to prevent another row. "In due time, you will be the galaxy's greatest hero. It is because your mission is so secretive, however, that the galaxy may never know of your exploits. I expect you will have no qualms with that."

It was not a question, but an order. It was the Chozo way, to be the silent saviors of the galaxy, while the men on Daiban bragged about all they had done.

The next hour was dedicated to learning the intricacies of my new, great weapon. So much did I learn that by the time our session was complete, and the weariness resulting from the infusion of the Chozo DNA had clouded my senses, my paralyzer had been rendered obsolete. I looked down at it like a historian would a primitive cave drawing, a fascinated curiosity coursing through me. I wondered how I could even be jealous of Anthony's spazer rifle.

"Before you succumb to slumber, young one, I must disclose the greatest weapon available to you," Old Bird said. I fervently wondered what else I could do in this suit of destruction. My arm cannon could generate an impossible amount of different energies. I had the capacity to store over 200 missiles, enough to shoot down an entire squadron of starfighters.

Old Bird simply smiled, and said: "you.

"There's an old, Chozo proverb," he continued, and I wondered if he could see the disappointment etched on my face through the helmet. "'It matters not the length of the blade, but the strength of the swing.' Samus, no ordinary Chozo, let alone human being, could even dream of utilizing the Chozo's finest weapon to its full potential. With this suit, you are now the most dangerous entity in the galaxy. Use that power responsibly."

I nodded, letting the suit revert back to thumb-sized form. It nestled itself under the skin around my wrist, and I knew the slightest touch would waken it once more. I struggled to keep my eyes open as I made my way back down the empty halls, listening to the angry crater outside, crying in protest with every step I took. Begging me to say.

But I wouldn't.

My new life began with me collapsing onto the gurney where the day had started, Oney Briss' face swimming out of the darkness at me. Those wild eyes suddenly fearful, as I aimed my arm cannon at his head and pulled the trigger.

No, I would not stay another night. Old Bird and Dryn would protest, but it was they who had pushed me out into the galaxy when I was younger anyway. That was where I belonged, and that was where I would remain.

These thoughts began lose meaning as I faded in and out of consciousness, and though I protested as long as I could, slumber finally grabbed hold, and I willingly let it take me.

 _I hadn't expected anything else from the men who were supposed to protect us…_

 _Hell was above us now, pushing down, choking the light, cooking our flesh in preparation for consumption... I shook a trembling limb at the frigates that had promised to protect us, engines like azure firefleas in the sky, dimming as they grew farther and farther away…_

 _The panicked buzzing of the wings around me was beginning to grow rather taxing on the ears, but I would not protest… I was an adult now, after all, and only babies complained about such trivial things as noise... I needed to be strong for my colony…_

 _And yet even now, nestled in our planet's greatest fortress, the Sanctuary, a great, otherworldly fear was tearing at everything I thought I knew... The beacon from the incoming carnivore grew brighter in the sky, until a wave of dark blue covered the planet's surface like an ocean…A dark, ambivalent, unforgiving ocean…_

 _The children screamed first, as their mothers scooped them up and retreated away, into the fortress that would soon be nothing more than a rubble while we, the "young and the brave," or perhaps the foolish and expendable, remained, eyes closed, waiting for the end…_

I woke later that evening, knowing I'd had a strange dream. Unlike the last one, I could not recount it. Anticipation took over soon enough, and I forgot about the whole thing.

"You're not going to SR388, Samus," Old Bird told me an hour later. He and Dryn had led me to my new ship, which was docked on Crateria. It was a rare sight to see the sun on Zebes, but today was one of the few days it was visible. Instead of warming my skin, it sent a chill down my spine. As if it were more than an unusual occurrence, and instead some kind of omen, like the expanding magma in the Norfair crater. Telling me to stay where it was safe.

"Why?" I asked, turning to my adopted father. A great sadness, not unlike that when I'd first left Zebes, covered his eyes like a film.

"SR388 fell eons ago. My brother never disclosed why…the rumor was that he had tested a different bioweapon that resulted in massive casualties."

A flicker of anger coursed through me. One would think he'd have learned his lesson the first time.

"Where am I going then?" My voice was strangely distant and even.

"Aklys," Dryn answered, stepping between us. He held a grainy blue image of the planet in his outstretched palm. To call it a planet would be a gross overstatement; it was merely a sphere of water floating in space. Four pipelines formed an X from the image's vantage point, meeting in the center of the planet, where a gold aura was cast its light into the heavens.

"It's an artificial planet," Dryn continued, "developed by Gray Voice as a sort of bunker, in case a great calamity overcame the mother planet, SR388. Those pipelines you see are actually elevators, that lead down into the planet's core. This core is the only inhabitable part of the planet."

"I'm still not sure why you need me to find him first," I said. "I have contacts in the Federation, I'm sure they can pull a file on Briss for me."

This time, it was Old'Bird's turn to cut in.

"My brother is a very protective man, and he always makes sure his work has his initials on it. He's the only one in the galaxy who knows where Briss and the virus may be. More than that, he may be the only one in the galaxy willing to give us that information."

I smiled at Old Bird, who returned it with a wry one of his own. Dryn put a hand on my shoulder, which I gently rest my head on. I'd told them I would not be staying, to which they both said they'd understood. That they'd have done the same thing if they were in my shoes.

The sun in the distance, red and thick like a cherry in a blue-sky orchard, was quickly beginning to disappear behind the horizon. If I was leaving, I would have to do so soon.

"We can't convince you to stay?" Old Bird said, softly rubbing my check. I knew he would break.

"No," I said simply.

The sky pulsed, and took on a dreamy pink plumage. The light caught Dryn's feathered features, ablaze like a prism. Though I was sure he wouldn't admit it, he had become quite the specimen. Every time Old Bird looked over at him, something I'd never seen before today would flash across his face. It was pride, from an old Chozo proud of his son.

Though he had never talked down to us, Old Bird thought he had our futures figured out. I would become a researcher, while his big-boned son would join the Galactic Federation. Both of his plans hadn't panned out…and yet, he was proud of us. I often wondered if my real father would've felt the same, to which Old Bird had always said "of course."

"I feel bad for Dryn," I'd say as Old Bird tucked me in for the night. "He only has one father." It was the first time I'd seen Old Bird cry.

"You really are free to stay the night," Dryn said with a smile, noticing what I had noticed. I wiped a tear from my eye and shook my head.

"I cannot stay another day. Not until that madman is brought to justice."

Knowing the longer I stood around and talked, the more melancholic I would become, I climbed aboard my new ship without another word. As the cool touch of the controls danced between my fingers, I realized that I, like Dryn, had done a lot of growing as well.

"You'll come back when you're finished?" Dryn shouted up from outside the cockpit window. I smiled, knowing they couldn't see me, and extended a thumb, wondering somehow if Anthony could see me too.

"Planning route to planet Aklys," said the familiar voice of my computer. Dryn had installed it in the ship's memory while I slept, in half the time it would've taken any Federation scientist.

I took one last look down at the cool, rocky surface of Zebes as the ship's engines cried out and I was lifted into the air. A voice in my head, which sounded curiously like Adam, told me something, but I pretended not to hear it. It wouldn't be until much later that I would admit the voice was right.

It told me it was the last time I'd look at Zebes this way.

The trip to Aklys was shorter than I had imagined. I had barely figured out all of the ship's controls when a message told me I was making my final approach to Aklys.

The blue screen Dryn had used to show me the planet hadn't done the artificial planet any justice. In fact, it was far larger than I could've ever imagined. As if the seas of some great, Earth-like planet had been drained and contained in a giant sphere and launched into the heavens. Every few seconds, the light at the core of the great ball of water would change color, and the surrounding sea would take a myriad of green and orange tones and shades.

I was too distracted to notice a small idol of a Chozo figure appearing on the ship's console.

"Please identify yourself, pilot," said a melodic voice, finally getting my attention.

"Samus Aran," I started. "Planet Zebes. I'm here to meet with Gray Voice."

A pause.

"One moment please," it said, before disappearing. It wasn't reassuring. Instead, I gazed down at the planet, looking for ways to get into the core without needed to land, punching myself for not asking Dryn if my ship could travel through water.

To my surprise, a different, taller idol appeared on the dashboard. The tone of its wings were darker, and it spoke with a husky, male voice.

"We have been awaiting your arrival, Samus Aran. You are cleared to land on platform four. We are sending the coordinates to your ship."

The platform was on the other side of the planet, on top of one of the pipelines. I couldn't help but feel uneasy that they had expected my arrival, and I wondered if Old Bird and Gray Voice weren't as distant as I'd initially thought.

I slowly descended to the aquatic surface, until the empty, waterlogged platform finally came into view. Two eerie, mint-green lights ignited, a pair of eyes glaring at the ship descending on their platform. It took me a moment to realize the eyes were actually two staves, wielded by two medium-sized Chozo figures approaching the ship.

I took two steps onto the soaking platform once I'd landed, and the two Chozo picked up their pace. Water sloshing onto the hems of their magnificent robes, which were studded in lustrous jewels and gold-branded Chozo inscriptions. Robes were typically the garb of Chozo elders or politicians, but these males seemed to be no more than air signalmen, or perhaps security agents.

"Welcome to Aklys, Samus Aran. Our lord Gray Voice shall greet you soon."

Rhythmic tremors rocked the surface of the planet, sending small waves rippling and washing up on the sides of the platform. Occasionally, a small stream of scalding water would flow over my feet, forcing me to lift my toes. The core must've been very hot to generate heat like that.

"How soon will he be here?" I asked the two, after a couple of minutes had passed.

"Very," came a coarse voice at the edge of the platform. A familiar, gaunt Chozo official stepped out of an elevator, which shut behind him and retreated back down the pipe. His eyes reflected no light from the luminous water, nor did they show any modicum of warmth. He was older now, older than in his image at least, as evident by the way he walked.

He slowly made his way towards us, wings clasped behind his back, making him appear even taller than he was.

"Samus, I must admit I was expecting you. You've done well to finally make it out this way."

He sneered, and nodded at the two Chozo flanking me.

"Kill her."


	7. Chapter 7

I hadn't expected anything less. The two Chozo hadn't expected it at all.

By the time I was encased in my power suit, my boot had connected with the underside of the left Chozo's chin, his beak emitting a cold crunching sound as the two halves pushed against each other. He fell to the ground, stiff as a board; I'd knocked him out the instant I'd hit him.

The other one attempted to grab me, but as he did, I wrapped one leg around his arm, and swung the other so it constricted around his neck.

"Enough of this!" Gray Voice shouted as the Chozo began to wheeze. I could see him aiming some kind of pistol at my chest, his hand shaking with rage. The Chozo sputtered for air as I finally uncoiled, and climbed behind him. I jammed my arm cannon into the back of his head.

"You pull that trigger, I'll put a hole through his brain!" I yelled back. I waited for Gray Voice to scold me for not playing fair. For taking an innocent prisoner. Instead, he let out a patronizing laugh, sending a chill down my spine. Somehow, he'd expected this.

"Taking a prisoner? That's not very becoming of a Zebesian, Samus."

"The situation has escalated more than it needs to, Gray Voice. I know about the virus."

Gray Voice appeared to pale for a moment, though it could easily have been a trick of the light refracting off the water's surface.

"The Maridian Variant… What about it?"

Gray Voice slowly lowered his gun hand. I took the chance to lean over my captive's shoulder.

"I know about Oney Briss. I know he has the virus, and I know you're the only one who will tell me where he is."

The Chozo began to sob. Perhaps out of pity, I loosened my grip on him. I was forced to tighten it again, as Chozo interlocked his talons around the pistol once more.

"You know what kind of gun this is?" he yelled. "It's something I developed a few years back, the Shorter. Sort of like an electro-magnetic pulse bomb. I fire this, your suit shuts down and crushes your ribcage, killing you instantly. You better believe I have the advantage right now, and I have no problem taking out some nameless guard if it means getting rid of you."

The Chozo whimpered.

"And yes," Gray Voice added after a moment. "I know your brother made that suit. It has his handwriting all over it. Imagine what kinds of things he could've done under my supervision, with my technology. It'd make that Power Suit look like a beggar's rags."

"I'm not here to discuss family politics," I yelled back. "I just want to know where I can find Oney Briss!"

"So much like your adopted father, you are," Gray Voice said, jealousy dripping from every syllable. "Always sticking your beak where it doesn't belong."

"I'm not the one who let the most dangerous bio-threat in galactic history slip through his fingers."

"Look, I don't know what this is about…" the Chozo guard squeaked. "I've got three kids, please just let me go."

"Shut it," Gray Voice said dismissively. "Now…" He turned back to me: "I'll give you thirty seconds to tuck tail and return to Zebes, Daiban, or whatever empty husk of a planet you've been living on for the past ten years, or I'll take you both out."

"Just tell me where Briss is, that's all I need…"

"Twenty five."

"C'mon man, I don't have any part in this," the Chozo guard whined.

"Exactly, is all this worth losing your life and costing him his?" Gray Voice asked, clawing at the trigger hungrily. "Twenty."

"You're a madman," I shouted at him, unable to hold back.

"Oh, that's a brilliant idea. Hurl insults at the person you need information from. Want me to speed up the count? Fifteen."

"Don't you care about the millions of innocent galactic lives you've put in danger? Are you this desperate to maintain your reputation?"

"Ten."

"Damn it, listen to me!"

"Five!" Gray Voice shouted, getting in position to fire.

"You're out of time, Aran!"

"And so are you!"

I pushed the guard to the ground, out of Gray Voice's line of fire. My veins in my leg began to pulse, preparing for to push off. Waiting for my enemy to take the first shot.

But it never came.

Instead, Gray Voice holstered the gun and sighed. A curious mix of disappointment and reverence showed in his eyes.

"Test," he panted, as if the word required a great deal of effort. "I was testing you. You're as reckless as always and yet…You've come a long way."

I kept my arm cannon pointed at him.

"You mean to say this was a complete waste of time?"

Gray Voice smirked.

"I had to know if I could trust you. If what my brother said about you was true. That you were the only one who could stop my abomination from spreading across the galaxy. I'm happy to report that, for the most part, I do trust you."

I reluctantly lowered my cannon, and deactivated my suit. The color of the water had changed again, emanating a red pallor that collected in Gray Voice's feathers like blood. His soulless eyes that seemed to be studying every single move I made.

"I have decided to give you what you need, Samus Aran," he said pompously, as if nothing had just transpired. "Follow me.

The tremors in the core grew in magnitude as the elevator took us deeper into the water, until I realized they had a rhythm to them. I felt as if I were entering one of the nightclubs back on Daiban, and was reminded of my adventures with Rylo and his gang. I found it unlikely that Gray Voice wanted anything to do with the galactic nightlife, but a sideways glance at his indifferent expression suggested that he had learned to tune the music out.

"After our homeworld fell, I created this planet to house the remaining denizens of the planet. Suffice to say, they took a few too many liberties with their freedom…"

"You never told me what happened on SR388," I asked. He frowned, and continued to stare out at the empty water.

"You're correct, I haven't."

The elevator doors opened, and an ocean of electronic sound flooded in. A large, darkened room stretched out before us, populated by Chozo around the same age as Dryn. Rows of tables and bars flanked the two sides of the dance floor; this was where the elder Chozo sat, tipping back shots of unknown substances that made their muscles stiff and their beaks loose.

The music grew in pitch at the epicenter, and I was forced to cover my ears as we pushed our way through the sea of feathers, swaying like tree branches in a non-existent wind.

It was here that I figured out the source of the light that illuminated the water on the surface. Directly above us were four large spheres, each radiating the same color of light, albeit different tones. One sphere was much larger than the others, the three others circling it like moons to a...

Yes, I realized. These were the four Chozo homeworlds, with SR-388 being the largest sphere, silently directing the paths of the smaller planets. Its rightful place, at least in Gray Voice's mind.

"Do keep up," I heard him say loudly, over the Chozo screaming in our ears. The song had changed to something evidently more popular, and the wallflowers had come to life, joining their friends in the center. It was getting harder to follow him.

I didn't notice the smaller creature balancing the tray of drinks until I had accidentally knocked it out of his hands. I quickly stepped back as the drinks sloshed around and crashed to the floor, a hailstorm of glass fanning out. An acrid smell rose from the ground, and hundreds of sharp eyes were suddenly glaring at me.

"Sorry, I…" My voice caught in my throat, as Sails stared back at me.

He looked just like he had in my dream, his mandibles indeed sharper than they were on Daiban. His wings were folded against his back, making him look leaner than he really was.

His mouth curled into an unsettling smile. Before I could say anything, a rough pair of talons grabbed me and pulled me out of the crowd, and I managed one last look at the Luminoth before he was swallowed up.

"Let go of me," I said, pulling away from Gray Voice's grip. His eyes glowed maliciously, as his lips curled into an equally eerie smile.

"You never did like being touched," he said, turning to face the wall. "Who was that oaf?" he said, keeping his eyes on me as he walked towards the wall.

"Nobody, just…looked familiar," I lied. He raised a suspicious eyebrow, before finally pulling on the wall to reveal a hidden doorway. He indicated for me to enter first, which I reluctantly did.

Unlike Old Bird's "study," which was merely a closet where hundreds of ancient files and papers were stashed, Gray Voice's was practically a palace. A sprawling set of desks formed a semi-circle at the opposite end of the room, covered in neat piles of documents and artifacts of various origin, no doubt trophies from his many intergalactic transactions. The soft light from the luminescent water streamed through the transparent ceiling and walls, casting eerie lights and shadows throughout the room.

"Don't look up," Gray Voice whispered in my ear.

Perhaps out of habit, I did anyway. Fifty dark, slit-like eyes glared down at me from the water above, shielded by rows of jagged teeth. They looked like overgrown leeches, sucking on the glass as if hoping in vain that it would break. A flash of yellow rippled through the water from the dance floor, enough for me to see the thing's slimy skin pulsing.

"Bloggs. Sea predators from Aether. A gift from the Luminoth," he said, his voice dripping with pride. "Good pets, but not to touch. Try to swim with them, and you'll be lucky if you only lose a limb."

He took a seat in the center-most desk, folding his wings in front of him. Disappointed that I hadn't reacted to them quite the way I'd wanted.

"When did you do business with the Luminoth?" I asked.

"About three cycles ago. Some kind of civil war broke out there. We traded technologies. I fail to see how that's relevant…"

"By technologies, you mean weapons," I spat. He said nothing. "I know you. Are you telling me you were involved in a civil war that's resulted in the loss of thousands of innocent Luminoth?"

"Save your moral grandstanding for the charity bakeoff," he said dismissively. "It's not like I picked up a spazer and started firing."

"The Federation estimates the death count will triple if this war continues even one more cycle. Say whatever you want if it makes you feel better, but Chozodia help you when their lost souls weigh down on your conscience."

"You sound like Old Bird now," he retorted.

"What's wrong with that?"

Gray Voice leaned forward.

"He and I have a different understanding of how the galaxy works, little lady," he said, reminding me of Adam. "You assume the best in everyone. Meanwhile, while you and your brother tinker in the Norfair crater and waste your cycles preserving ancient art. Ignoring the wars, pestilence, Space Pirate raids all around you. The galaxy cannot be defined by the old Chozo texts anymore. Society has changed. The rabid dog you're trying to find thinks a galaxy-wide pandemic will somehow bring peace to it. It's fun to live in your little playhouse, and assume the best of the galaxy, and that somehow there is some semblance of hope that the galaxy can right itself, but the fact is, there isn't. That's the way it works. We need to make our own hope."

"And what hope have you 'made?' Your people have no homeworld. They spend all day in this giant fishbowl dancing, burying their problems and fears in alcohol."

"You have no idea what my people are capable of…"

"Give me what I need," I interrupted. I'd lost my patience with my uncle's games. "Where is Oney Briss?"

"I don't know," was his immediate response. My nostrils flared.

"Then why am I here?"

"Because I know how to find him." He leaned down and opened a cabinet, withdrawing a metallic briefcase and dropping it on the desk.

"I never trusted Briss." He knocked against the top of the case with his fist, which opened at his touch, revealing a small monitor and keyboard. "So I attached a transmitter to every vial of the virus in case he tried to pull something."

For the first time that I'd seen, he looked defeated.

"As I expected, he did. I fired him and he took off with the virus."

"I know the story," I interrupted again. "What is this?"

"This can tell us the precise location of every vial I ever stoppered."

I walked around the desk until I stood next to him, looking over his shoulder at the grainy monitor.

"One of my older computers. I never had any use for it."

He pounded a few keys, until a map of the galaxy instantiated.

"If we're lucky, he hasn't already distributed the virus."

12 red dots appeared right on top of one another, and a sense of relief came over me. Until, at least, I could see Gray Voice's grimace reflected in the monitor.

"He's got them all somewhere in the Switzer Belt," he muttered. He didn't need to elaborate. All I needed to know about the Switzer Belt, I'd learned from Captain Aeries back on Daiban.

"Only madmen tread the Switzer Belt…" he'd said. As we were only new recruits, we'd never questioned that fact.

"Surely you aren't foolish enough to actually go there?" Gray Voice asked, and I was flummoxed to hear a hint of concern in his voice. Perhaps he'd noticed as well, adopting his usual demeanor in an instant. "Old Bird told me you crash-landed on Zebes. If you can't even properly land a ship, then the Switzer Belt is a suicide mission."

"If it means saving millions, then yes."

"But why you? This doesn't have to be your mission…"

"Not everyone is cagey like you, uncle."

His eyebrows curled angrily.

"It's not cagey, it's survival."

I resisted the urge to laugh, as I remembered the last person to tell me that.

"I've heard that before. The last person who told me how important survival was ordered me to shoot my lover point blank."

"Yet, you pulled the trigger?" It was a rhetorical question, and he knew it. "See, you understand what it takes to survive. Going on this mission is not what a survivor would do. I never thought I'd be the one to talk you down, but for the love of Chozodia, don't throw everything away to stop this madman."

"Unlike you, I don't have a choice." He opened his mouth to respond, for once, he had nothing to say. Instead, he reached down and opened a different drawer, withdrawing what looked like a small data card.

"This won't help you navigate the Switzer Belt, but I'd be remiss if I didn't help out somehow…Activate your suit."

I obliged, and I felt him push the card into the back of my helmet.

"What are you doing?" I asked suspiciously.

"Relax, I'm adding a feature to your suit. This is called the Gravity Chip. It will allow you to move better in water."

"Why would I need to move better in water?"

"I've learned, in my years, you never know when you need something."

He smiled, and for the first time, it seemed sincere.

"I'll have someone bring us a couple of drinks…"

"No, I need to finish this," I said.

"Old Bird told me you didn't sleep well. You'll need to be at full strength to tackle the Belt. I insist…"

Before I could stop him, he turned and pushed a small button on the wall.

"Bring us a bottle of Tetra Whiskey."

I felt my eyes growing wider; his gun was missing. He shot me a confused glance as I told him so. He instinctively reached for it, but felt nothing. He merely frowned again.

"I may have left it at the dock. My guards probably have it. In the meantime…"

Gray Voice leaned forward.

"I understand your father and I's politics are different. I understand you don't like the way I do things, and frankly, I have regrets too sometimes. But understand that any research I've ever done was to make lives better, not end them."

I huffed, and stared up at the fifty narrow eyes staring back.

"I hope you understand that I have a hard time believing that."

He smiled again.

"I do."

He clicked the button again. I took in more of the room, seeing, to my immense surprise, a picture of a young Old Bird on one of the bookshelves. Next to him, about a foot taller and much more colorful, could only be Gray Voice. He looked like the spitting image of my brother, only his hair was fairly shorter, and the gray feathers that had given him his namesake were already beginning to sprout through. I admired the image, only half-listening to the conversation between Gray Voice and the guard I'd held prisoner.

"Povel, is Agrev awake again?"

"Yeah, he's doing alright. Is that all you needed?"

"No, do you have my pistol?"

There was a moment's silence.

"No sir, we don't have it."

Another silence. The conversation suddenly had my full attention. Gray Voice cast me an accusatory glance.

"What are you up to, Samus?"

As if on cue, the door to the room behind us opened.

"Here's your drink," the raspy voice said. A quick popping noise followed, as a bolt of energy caught Gray Voice flush in the face. He groaned in pain on the floor, and I instinctively activated my Power Suit, pointing my cannon at the dark figure in the doorway.

At the young Luminoth, whose mandibles were clicking feverishly.


	8. Chapter 8

"The Luminoth have a good memory, Chozo bitch."

The door closed behind Sails, bathing the room in darkness again. The Luminoth was casting three shadows on the clear surfaces of the room, and I watched apprehensively as they all crawled towards me.

"You think I would forget?"

Gray Voice groaned in pain, the scent of singed feathers burning my nostrils.

"How did you escape the Federation?" I asked. The shadows froze. Sails spoke again.

"That is irrelevant."

"Fine. Then tell me why you're here."

"The same reason you are, I suppose. My client wants that virus."

"Your…client?"

To my immense surprise, Sails lowered his weapon and holstered it in a morning star-shaped hole in his exoskeleton.

"We're wasting time. Does the old duff know where it is?"

I hesitated.

"Why would I tell you? Who are you working for?"

"Adam Malkovich."

There was a moment's silence, as the fact sank in. Above us, the bloggs screeched in protest, infuriated at the incapacitation of their master. The shadows looked up at them, hunching over in anger.

"You think my homeworld is your trophy case, old man?" the Luminoth shouted. Beside me, Gray Voice gulped and twitched; the bolt had gone right through his beak, his tongue unable to formulate any response.

"I will defend him," I said. I still hadn't taken my arm cannon off the insect.

"Really? What if I told you that Space Pirate commandos are on their way here right now, with orders from Gray Voice to kill a human girl in a Chozo power suit?"

Gray Voice clucked louder as I looked down at him, gasping for air. His eyes wild, and desperate.

"Prove it," I shot back at the Luminoth. He tossed a smaller scanner at me, dots illuminating the map similarly to Gray Voice's virus tracker.

"Space Pirate frigates. The pulsing icon in the center is us."

Two of the dots were rapidly approaching, circling the pulse like moths to a flame. I dropped the scanner on the desk, resisting the urge to cave in my uncle's face with my boot.

"I should've known better than trust you."

"You can get your revenge later, right now we need to get out of here."

I let my eyes burn into Gray Voice's for a moment longer, my power suit reflected in his clear eyes. To my horror, my image slowly became misty, as the old Chozo's eyes began to glaze over.

"The monitor on his desk has the locations of every vial of the virus. Take it, and look around the room for anything else than can help us. I need to treat him."

The Luminoth obeyed, as I searched the desks for gauze or any first aid tools, finally finding one at the farthest end of the farthest desk.

"What are you doing?" Sails called to me as I leaned over Gray Voice. The old Chozo's pupils were narrow, snakelike. I searched his neck and chin for the gash.

"He's losing blood, I need to patch him up."

"Why would you save him?"

"He gave me something I can use," I responded absentmindedly, wrapping some of the gauze around his beak and pressing down gently. I looked up and down for any more gashes, finding some crimson feathers on the side of his neck.

"Sa…sam…" he continued to wheeze, his voice growing weaker and weaker.

"Stay with me, stay with me…" I muttered as the old Chozo's breathing began to slow. As I applied the gauze, however, his eyes slowly drooped shut, his muscles tensing. He managed to cradle my face in his outstretched arm once more before falling limp.

I held him for a moment longer, before letting the arm slump against his body. I was never one to cry, and I certainly wouldn't for the man who had betrayed so many, and yet there was something so pathetic about his end. And the way he was moving and twitching, as if something were trying to escape…was it regret?

No…I couldn't afford to think like that. In a way, he had been right about the galaxy, and the price of trust.

"Is he stable?" came Sails' voice from what sounded like a mile away. I could hear him pawing through the dead man's treasures as if they were meaningless.

"He's dead," I said as I got to my feet, looking at Gray Voice for the final time. Sails turned back to me, his eyes difficult to read. He opened his mouth slowly, as if deciding what to say, evidently unable to find the words.

"Keep searching the room for what you need," I said. "I'll dispose of the body."

A half hour later, we emerged from Gray Voice's office. The dance floor had cleared, and most of the young Chozo were slouched over the adjoining bars, their voices slurred and bodies limp, as if they had been drugged. The remnants of what had formerly been the greatest of the Chozo homeworlds.

The models of the four planets were pulsing dimly now to a much softer, lower beat. Without the bells and whistles, all four seemed so pathetic…

I wanted to wake the Chozo up, scream in their ears. Tell them their leader was dead in his chamber, knowing they would simply laugh it off. Too overcompensated to understand. Too inebriated to care.

That was when one of the males by the elevator door clawed at my shoulder, slumping against the wall as I pulled away.

"You know the words to this number, don' you lass…? 'One bird leaves the nest, Mother buries the rest…'"

I froze and stared back at the drunk male in disbelief. It was the same lullaby that Old Bird had sang to me. The song I'd heard on Daiban. It was the first time I'd heard it in my native language.

Sails finally managed to pull me into the elevator. The twisted lullaby finally ending as the door closed.

The elevator trembled and whirred eerily, as the lights from the den of iniquity below slowly faded from view. The sea was an opaque blue now, the brilliant lights from before having dimmed out while we were in Gray Voice's office. The lights to the elevator would occasionally cut out at moments for a time, leaving us in complete darkness, furtively glancing over at one another.

"I knew you were Chozo the minute I met you," Sails finally said. He was smiling, his bulbous eyes reflecting the overhead light. "Serris is a legendary creature from Chozo mythology, the tale of Crypt I believe, in which the legendary hero Barigan slays him in the caves of what became SR388."

"You're very knowledgeable," I said with a sigh.

"It's a curious thing, to be this intelligent at my age," he said. "To have those childish desires, and yet be forced to see the universe for how it really is."

He paused and looked out at the dim lights of the core.

"Intelligence is like a halberd axe. Only some can swing it, while most let it crash down on them. It can make men mad," he added, and I thought of the drunk male Chozo. "Make them waste away, desperate to escape the world they know."

I had the feeling he still hadn't told me everything.

"Tell me who you really are," I finally queried.

"Hmph," he huffed simply. "You don't want to know."

"If you want my help getting the virus, you'll have to tell me."

Sails turned back to me, regarding me like a duelist's equal.

"My name, as you can imagine, isn't Sails. It's Il-Tsung. The story about abandoning the civil war on Aether is true. I was conscripted as an adolescent and stationed at the Sanctuary Fortress, which unfortunately saw the brunt of the action."

"Why did you abandon?"

The Luminoth studied the murky waters again.

"The easy answer would be to say I didn't want to be just another carcass to be thrown at the enemy, but the truth is much more difficult.

"We were a peasant family, meaning we were to take the front lines. When the first wave of those demons hit…we didn't stand a chance. I survived by playing dead, but my parents and sister weren't so lucky."

In my mind, I imagined my own family. The Space Pirate invasion of K2L, as they held me hostage. I hadn't thought of that day in years, but I couldn't help myself. Forced to remember my father offering his life in exchange for mine. Ridley barking, ordering for the Pirates to bring the woman as well, before skewering them both. I retched as their blood spilled upon the war torn streets, the foul reptile laughed as he dropped me from his talons. I'd broken my leg from the fall, but I wouldn't learn that until hours later. I was dull from that moment forth to any sort of physical pain.

I wondered who his Ridley was.

"I know your Chozo ways. How you must preserve one who gives you something. I'm sorry I killed your uncle, but what he's done to my homeworld, and what he could do to this galaxy, is something I cannot forgive.

"What's your story?" the Luminoth asked immediately, as if to get off the subject. Though I had all the details in my mind, and the story could've told itself, I stayed silent. I was relieved as the elevator finally reached the surface, and the door opened to the platform.

The ship on the platform, however, wasn't mine.

It was a smaller craft, accented with a forest green color. The front windshield was shaped like the Luminoth's eyes, though they were an unsettling maroon color. It reminded me of a mosquito, with the laser cannon protruding from its front and its narrow wingspan.

"I believe we took the wrong elevator. That's not my ship."

"I know," the Luminoth said, stepping confidently onto the platform before whipping around and withdrawing Gray Voice's pistol. "It's mine."

I had never deactivated my suit.

As he pulled the trigger, I mashed my finger on the back of my helmet. My suit began to dissolve, but not fast enough. The bolt hit me square in my chest plate. Snakes of electricity slithered around it, and the full weight of the armor caved in around my chest. I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

"Well, that's par for the course, so they say."

I opened my mouth to speak, but all I could do was wheeze.

"Don't take it personally. It's part of a deal I have with my client."

I spat at the Luminoth's legs rather pathetically, unable to move any other part of my 's smug expression, could hear his businesslike tone as he proudly told the officers what cell to put me in. As if I were a zoo animal that had escaped.

"By the look on your face, you must still think the Federation is my client."

I stopped wriggling and looked up at my captor, raindrops clouding my vision. Some kind of frigate suddenly emerged from the clouds, the word _Orpheon_ painted crudely on the side.

"Hm, that's them now."

With that, the Luminoth known as Il-Tsung turned and climbed into his ship. I listened as a deep rumbling engine shook the platform, before deafening me as it shot away from the planet, the sound growing more and more distant until only the quiet purring of the Space Pirate frigate could be heard.

I closed my eyes as the sky grew darker, torrents of rain threatening to drown me.

I was dead. At least, I thought I was.

The pressure around my chest had weakened, and I could move my arms slightly. The triumphant cries of the Space Pirates were in my eardrums, perhaps already planning how to harvest my organs.

That was when I opened my eyes. My chest plate was slowly expanding. The ship called _Orpheon_ was only 50 or so feet above the platform, the pirates hanging off the edge of the ship, eyes glowing hungrily like spook lights.

Pushing with all my might against the chest plate, I managed to roll onto my front. Ignoring the pirates catcalls, I rolled over once more. Inspired at the sight of the heavy waves lapping onto the platform, only 25 feet away.

I managed to roll more swiftly onto my front the second time, as the suit continued to slowly expand outward. A loud clanging, followed by the serpentine hissing of the frigate's hydraulics, emanated from behind me as it finally touched down on the platform. Hundreds of smaller thuds shook the platform; the pirates were coming.

I pushed as hard as I could, the dark waters growing closer with every cycle. The pirates cried out in panic, realizing what I was doing. I could feel them closing on me, their excited steps growing louder and louder, but it was too late.

Pain coursed through me as one of the pirates slashed at my back, but one of the waves swallowed me before it could wrap its arms around me. My arms finally wriggled free, and I pulled as hard as I could on my chest plate, my vision swimming as I struggled to hold my breath. I was sinking like a stone, what little light there was on the surface slowly fading from sight.

All the while, something else beginning to close in on me.

A dozen pairs of bloodshot eyes emerging from the darkness below.


End file.
